Risen Demon
by Red Mage 04
Summary: Gone is the happygolucky boy from Sandover. In his place, is now a cold warrior thrust into an apocalyptic future. Can he overcome his new foes, or shall he lose himself to his hatred? Pairings: JxK TxA DxT Completed!
1. Rescue

Risen Demon.

Hello everyone. I've at long last managed to summon up enough of my courage to try posting this story, a Jak II novelezation with a few twists of my own added in. Most noteworthy of these being some changes in the morph-gun, an additional weapon that Jak will be carrying as well, plus, if the idea goes over well, I plan on making our hero's inner demon undergo a bit of an evolution at about the halfway point. That, and Errol's "death" will be significantly longer and more painful than what happened in the game.

Pairings: JxK, TxA DxT.

Special thanks go out to Light Eco Sage, who gave me the encouragement and advice I needed to get this thing off the ground.

Without taking up anymore of your time, I'll let you start reading.

Oh yeah, to any lawyers out there, I do not own this franchise, so don't try and sue me.

* * *

Rescue

The pain continued, searing through him as the vile substance continued to be injected. The young elf cried out, unable to hold back the agony. His screams were soft though, little more than groans, his voice was already practically gone from the previous treatments.

Through the pain, questions would occasionally surface.

How long have I been here?

Why are they doing this to me?

Why won't they just kill me?

Are the others still alive?

The thoughts churned through his subconscious mind. And they also haunted his dreams, when he was finally released from the hellish torture of the experiments, and allowed a few blissful hours of oblivion before the next round began.

Finally, after eternity had come to pass, the pain subsided, and the injection process ceased. From his semi-conscious state, he heard three voices. One was the emotionless female voice of the computer that was monitoring the experiment, and the other two were his captors.

"Dark Eco injection cycle complete, bio-stat readings normal and unchanged."

A swear was heard, followed swiftly by a clang as the metallic gauntlet of his main captor smashed into something.

"Damnation! I was told that this one might be different!" the elf known as Baron Praxis snarled, whirling on his smaller compatriot.

"We must face the facts, Sir, it would appear as though the Dark Warrior Project is a failure despite our efforts." the underling said in an offhand manner.

The Baron ignored the other man, and instead picked the adolescent up by his blond hair. He growled as he thrust his face, which was scarred and partially covered by a titanium plate, into his. His one eyed glared at the boy with hatred, and his rough handling rewarded him with a pain filled groan, and the younger elf's burning blue eyes fluttered open slightly.

"You should at least be dead with all the Dark Eco that we've pumped into you!"

Before Praxis could continue his tirade, his lackey cleared his throat.

"With all due respect, Baron Praxis, the Metal Head armies press their attacks harder every day, without a new weapon my men will not be able to hold them for much longer."

The Baron released his hold on the test subject, and stalked over to the edge of the platform that they were standing on. With a white knuckled grip on the enormous Ecoblade strapped to his side, he spoke, his voice laced with quiet anger.

"Commander Errol, I will not be remembered as the man who lost this city to those vile creatures!" the Baron snarled, while rubbing his forehead. "We'll proceed with the next phase of our other plan. Then, I want you to come back and finish this, thing," he gestured towards the boy on the lab table, "off."

Once he was done speaking, Baron Praxis pivoted on his foot, and stalked back towards a warp gate that was at the far end of the modified prison block. Commander Errol, however, lingered for just a moment, before sticking his face into the boy's.

"I'll be back later, freak." he said with an insane glint in his eyes.

As Errol did an about-face and followed his master, the youth let his eyes shut once more. Though his face remained blank, he smiled inwardly. Finally, they were going to finish him off, he would be dead, and free from the daily pains of torture, beatings and experiments. With that comforting thought, he let his fatigue overtake him.

Or rather, he would have, had his now extraordinarily enhanced hearing not picked up the whine of a hover lift rising up the shaft about four feet to his left. With a sound of shifting mechanisms, the lift ground to a halt, and he heard a strangely familiar voice.

"Ding, ding, third floor: body chains, roach food, torture devices."

The voice was high pitched, but obviously coming from a male. He formed a mental image of the creature that was talking, and remembered a strange, orange rodent. He racked his brain, desperately struggling to remember the name of the thing.

"Hey, buddy, I'm looking for a hero, you haven't seen one, have you?" the voice pierced his thoughts again, humorous and filled with mirth.

He suddenly felt a small weight land on his chest, and his eyes slowly opened. He got one glimpse of the being's face, before his leaden eye lids closed again.

"Well that's a fine hello!" the weasel like creature said with indignation "Don't you remember me, Jak? It's Daxter, the one you always had riding on your shoulder!"

Silence met the Ottsel's inquiry. The cheery smile on the former elf's face faded, to be replaced with a dark frown.

"Jeez, Jak, I've spent the past two years combing this city, risking my tail…literally, looking for you, and this is the thanks that I get?!? For once, please, say something!"

Without warning, something within the boy snapped, and he felt, for the first time that he could remember, words rising in his throat.

"I'm gonna kill Praxis!" he screamed, the pain in his throat and fatigue forgotten.

He was silenced almost before the sentence was out of his mouth. Daxter had clamped his small furry hand over his mouth, shutting him up for the moment.

"Quiet!" the Ottsel hissed, looking around frantically, as if expecting a guard to pop around a corner. After a moment, he calmed, and returned his attention to Jak. "Now, just give me a moment and I'll try and figure out the controls to get you offa that table." the small rodent muttered, leaping off Jak and studying the computer controls panel at the side of the table.

But something in Jak had awakened. The Baron and Commander had been overly eager when they decided that the young elf had not been changed by the sickening amounts of Dark Eco that he had been exposed too. A strangely familiar presence awoke within the depths of his weary brain, and Jak felt something swell within him. His vision turned blood red, and animalistic fury filled his soul. A roar caused Daxter to look up, and he beheld his friend. Or, rather, he beheld what _had_ been Jak just a few seconds ago.

Now a monster was strapped to the metal, its skin pale, its hair the ashen gray of a corpse. Daxter saw his own fear ridden face reflected in large obsidian eyes. However, what really drew the attention of the Ottsel was the creature's hands, and what was attached to them. Where once had been fingernails, now stood five inch claws.

With another feral scream, the beast broke free of its restraints. It looked about for a moment, taking in its surroundings. Then it noticed the fuzzy rodent that was an arm's length away from it. With a predatory smile, the monster advanced towards him.

"Uhhh, Jak? It's me, Daxter!" he whimpered as he struggled to maintain control of his bowels.

For a second, the monster hesitated, and then seemed to lose its balance, and moments later, Jak stood before Daxter again. He was panting, and exhaustion from his stay in the prison was clearly etched into his visage.

"What the heck was that!?!?!" his furry friend exclaimed. "Sheesh, remind me to never piss you off." the Ottsel muttered with a sigh of relief, not caring that Jak didn't have an answer, or perhaps he was simply unused to the idea of his friend being able to respond by vocal means. "Come on, tall, dark, and gruesome, I brought you some new threads, now put em on and let's get out of here."

A minute later, Jak stood, clothed in the attire that Daxter had been gracious enough to bring for him, though Jak did not question where he had managed to find them, and as he thought about it, he probably didn't want to know.

The blue tunic stretched down a little past his waist, and brown fatigues and combat boots adorned his lower body, in addition to that, he had a bit of red cloth that came down the sides of his head and pooled up around the lower part of his face. Combined with the matching fingerless blue gauntlets, and IR goggles strapped around his head, the outfit made him look like someone who was about to go to war. Which was just as well, because that was exactly what Jak planned to do once he got out of this hellhole.

Jak considered his possible choices for the moment. Daxter might have been able sneak past all the guards with his small form, but he would definitely stand out amongst them, so that ruled out taking the lift back down. That warp gate on the far end probably just led deeper into the fortress. What to do, what to do?

Then something caught his attention. A carelessly open air ventilation entrance, and beneath it, some stacked crates. Apparently, the concept of someone actually managing to break free and escape had not occurred to anyone who happened to be stationed here. So much the better. With a smile, Jak trudged over to it, and with a minimal effort, pulled himself up into it.

After several minutes of crawling, the elf could see light at the end of the shaft, indicating that he had finally reached the end. However, as he dropped down, he felt the floor give just a little. A moment later, an alarm started blaring, and he realized that he had tripped a guard device of some sort. As the same computer voice he heard earlier screamed of his escape into a restricted area, the young elf did the first thing that came to the mind: he ran like there was no tomorrow.

Faster than he ever had before in his life, Jak raced through the compound with Daxter having a death grip on his shoulder. He knew that he had to move quickly, every moment he delayed meant there would be a few more guards searching for him, and if they caught him…

Furthermore, his options were quite limited, as he lacked weaponry. Up close, the brutal and gritty hand to hand combat he had used against Lurkers might suffice, though the young elf had no clue exactly how potent it would be against someone in titanium-A full battle plate. And at a distance, well, in such a scenario, the gun usually triumphed over the fist. How Jak cursed them for what they had done to him, had he been able to fall back on his Channeling abilities, he knew that breaking out of here would be mere child's play, but the treatments, strangely enough, seemed to have robbed him of his ability to harness Eco and turn it into a weapon. This meant that even in the long run, he was likely to be at a great tactical disadvantage unless he could find a means to recover them, or in the unlikely event that these strange elves had weapons of a caliber equal to the awesome powers he had once commanded.

He heard clanking, and a few of Krimzon Guard came barreling down the corridor. For a few seconds, they looked about. None noticed the young elf hiding from them in the shadows of the hallway. Jak had backed up into the cover provided by some large machines, and now he was praying fervently to the Precursors that none of them heard Daxter's panicked breathing.

After what felt like hours, the patrol passed on, apparently deciding that whoever they were looking for wasn't here. Scarcely daring to inhale, Jak dashed out of his cover, and down the corridor in the opposite direction.

He continued onward, his pace considerably slowed, and his ears twitching, trying to pick up the slightest noise that could indicate a threat. It was a good thing he did, as it was not long before he came across another of the crimson armored warriors. The elf had his back to him, and was apparently oblivious to his presence. For a moment, Jak was faced with the toughest dilemma of his life. He had fought before, he had killed, but never had he slain one of his own kind. And now, despite it all, he still hesitated, unsure of whether he should try to knock the guard unconscious, and risk his reawakening, or end it then and there.

Before he could spend much more time on this potentially life altering situation, he felt that presence rise again. There was a bestial, animalistic instinct quality to its reasoning, and for some odd reason, Jak agreed with it for the moment. The elf had to die, the risk was too great.

Silently, he snuck up behind the elf. Then, in a single, lightning fast movement, he reached around, gripped the Krimzon Guardsman's helmet with both hands, and twisted with strength he did not know he had. In the same moment that the sound of cracking vertebrae split the air, Jak knew that the small amount of his innocence that he had managed to hold onto while in this hell, had just been forsaken. As the corpse of the first person he had ever killed hit the ground, the fires that burned in his eyes changed, becoming chilled and frozen.

Swiftly and silently, Jak policed the body, taking the K.G.'s pistol, as he didn't fancy the idea of lugging around a weapon as large as their blaster rifles, particularly when he wasn't all that familiar with guns in the first place, a reload for it, and some strange blue and red orb that Daxter had referred to as a "grenade".

It was fortunate indeed that he had taken the weapons, as it was not five minutes before Jak had a run in with a four man patrol and found himself forced to use them. Naturally, he didn't hold the pistol tight enough at first, so his initial rounds went wild, hitting everything but the intended targets. As the guards returned the favor, the former Channeler ducked back behind a corner, wincing slightly as part of the wall was blown away. He waited a few seconds, before he readjusted his grip, ducked down and out, and fired a few more times. Unfortunately, what Jak had not been aware of was that this pistol was designed primarily to take down small, unarmored foes, and as such did little more than cause a mild discomfort to his adversaries. He all but jumped back around the corner as the guards unleashed a small firestorm at him.

There was a faint, unpleasant buzzing coming from the gun he held, and Jak realized that it was out of power. After a few seconds, he managed to eject the clip and load a new one in. He waited a few seconds, before popping around the edge yet again, this time aiming for the face of one of his foes. The first three shots missed, but the forth one hit dead on, blasting through the mask the guard was wearing, and killing him instantly. However, Jak had now been pinned down here for what he figured to be about two minutes, which meant that re-enforcements would doubtless be in-route.

"Jak, you got a grenade, use it!" Daxter screeched, trying to press himself into the wall and as far away from any potential harm as he could.

"How?" the elf inquired, staring at the strange sphere.

"Press the two red buttons, and then throw it!" the mutant yelled.

Jak did as he was told, and nearly dropped the volatile explosive when it suddenly ignited, becoming enveloped in a blue flame. Fortunately, common sense told him that even if he was not aware of this thing's capabilities, dropping would be a very, very bad idea. Quickly as he could, he leaned around, and threw it like a baseball. Surprisingly enough, it nailed one guard in the chest as he was kneeling down, and rather than bouncing off, stuck to the blood colored armor. The K.G. gave a quick, panicky yell, before a bluish white explosion occurred, setting off a chain reaction that rattled the whole area as the patrol's own grenades went off.

When the light cleared, little was left of the area but blackened and scorched metal, and the smell of burnt flesh. For a moment, Jak simply stood where he was, blinking.

"Wow, what a bang." Daxter mused, sticking his head out now that it was safe.

* * *

Eventually, he reached a section of the fortress that brought a smile to his face. On the far side of the room was an open window, and he could see the city, rundown as that part of it was, through it. The thought of breathing free air for the first time since his arrival to this place, wherever it was, propelled him onward. However, his joy was short lived. He realized rather abruptly that the floor of this place was akin to a grated catwalk, and what looked like a whole division of troopers were stationed below him.

Tiptoeing gently, he tried to ease past the soldiers, who were chatting amongst one another about what could have been going on, one going so far as to ask if this was some sort of drill.

Jak made it about halfway across before Murphy's Law decided to make an appearance. One of the grates had rusted over the years, and was not as sturdy as it might have been at one point in time. When Jak started to put his weight on it, it gave way, nearly sending him down on top of those on the lower level.

A quick jump backwards saved him from certain death or worse, but now the guards knew where he was. All caution abandoned, the young man all but flew across the gratings, the blaster bolts that were slagging the floor behind him added motivation to an already desperate run.

One Krimzon Guard, possessing a little more forethought than the rest of them, fired ahead of the fleeing prisoner. Jak watched in horror as the man systematically brought down the floor in front of the window, rapidly cutting him off from his escape. A growl rose from within Jak; he was not going to be trapped in here like some animal. Ignoring Daxter's screams, and throwing away the practically empty sidearm, he judged the distance, ever widening as it was. His muscles tensed and coiled, Jak sprang.

The few instants that he sailed towards his freedom or recapture would be some of the longest in his young life. Time seemed to slow as the portal to the outside grew closer.

Finally, he flew through it. However, what he had failed to notice until it was too late was the fact that he was now thirty feet from the ground. About half a second passed, and then a dull thump echoed through the back alley.

With a groan, Jak sat up. Daxter was panting heavily from the near death experience, but now that they were free, at least for the moment, he had his trademark grin starting to re-appear on his face.

"Whew, good to be free again ey, buddy?"

"The fresh air feels good." Jak responded, inhaling deeply, and earning himself a look of disbelief from Daxter.

True, the air of the slums was filled with smog and fumes from open sewer lines and such, but to Jak, it smelled better than anything he could remember. Now, if his luck would only hold, and enable him to stay free long enough to remove Praxis' heart from his chest, things would be just peachy.

The elf got to his feet, and Daxter clambered back up on his shoulder. Smiling for the first time that he could remember, Jak started walking. Where he was going, he did not know, but he would think of something in time.

* * *

Well, what did you people think? Was it okay, or should I be tarred and feathered for putting it up here? Please let me know, and tell me any adivce, comments, or constructive critisms you might have about it, as I want this to be the best that it can be. 


	2. Capture the Flag

Capture the Flag

Hello people, feels good to finally be able to relax and post something.

Light Eco Sage- I know how you feel, I've got a teacher that I swear is a sadist, as he seems to take joy in his ability to flunk half of his class with each test he hands out.

dude- thanks, I'm glad that you like the story.

gohan11- I am happy that you liked what I wrote, but could you please not tar and feather me unless I deserve it, my skin has a severe allergic reaction to pain.

yoyo- Thanks for the vote of confidence, and to let you know, I hope to put a few more twists in this story, starting with this chapter.

Shashi- I'll try to keep my updates to more or less a week or so, and I hope I continue to please. (bows)

To all others who have read this, I hope that you have enjoyed it, and that you enjoy chapter two as well.

To any lawyers who have nothing better to do than to look around for frivolous lawsuits to win, I don't own any characters here, so don't bother.

Now, chapter two.

* * *

They walked the slum back alleys together, reminiscing about old times, and planning for the future ones. 

"Well, we shouldn't have to worry about you going back to the big house anytime soon, old buddy. All we gotta do is find you some Eco, and the first set of guards stupid enough to try and come after you won't even know what hit em." Daxter said, rubbing his hands together and grinning evilly.

"Ummm." Jak began uneasily.

"What do you mean by "umm"? I don't like the sound of that." Daxter inquired in genuine confusion.

"I can't Channel anymore." was Jak's simple reply. "It's got something to do with those Dark Eco injections that they gave me."

"So what does that leave us with?" the Ottsel exclaimed.

"My hands, my feet, and my brain." Jak responded with a grim smile, earning him a gulp from his diminutive companion.

Jak and Daxter had not gone very far when something caught his eye. There on the side of the street was an elderly man and a young boy, looking like he was no older than seven. Thinking that perhaps he could get some information out of the elderly one, Jak strode over to him. As he approached, the old timer looked up and saw them. A glance at Jak caused the man to back up a step, and he pulled the child behind him protectively.

"May I help you?" he asked, a slight quaver in his voice.

"You look like a reasonably intelligent old man, so tell me, where the hell am I?" Jak growled.

"You'll have to excuse him," Daxter said as he leapt down, "he's new to the whole conversation thing."

"Well, my angry young friend, you are a "guest" in "glorious" Haven City, under the rule of his "Majesty", Baron Praxis." The old one replied, brushing off his robes and adjusting his grip on the staff he was carrying.

"I was just a "guest" in the Baron's prison." Jak growled, thinking of the years of experiments he'd been forced to endure at the tyrant's hands.

"Whether in a cell or in the city, we are no different. We are trapped; all are the prisoners of Praxis. That is why I must look after this boy." The man said with a gesture. "His survival is vital to the life of this city."

"This kid?" Daxter exclaimed, pointing at the child for emphasis. "He looks kind of scruffy."

The child said nothing, but suddenly turned a fear filled gaze down to the end of the street. The elderly man followed the gaze, and paled visibly as the child dashed behind his legs.

"Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time." He said, and Jak noticed a trio of Krimzon Guards marching down the street, with several more behind them. They had their eco rifles drawn, and Jak knew in an instant what they were looking for: him.

"By order of his eminence, the Grand Protector of Haven City, Baron Praxis, this whole sector is under arrest for the suspected harboring of underground fugitives. Now, surrender and die!" the lead guard spoke.

"Doesn't he mean, "Surrender _or_ die?"" Jak whispered to the old man.

"Not in this city." was the elderly one's reply.

"Okay, no problamo," Daxter said nervously, before turning to his larger compatriot. "Jak, this is where you come in!"

As the trio approached the elves and rodent, Jak stepped in front of the old man and the boy, sticking his arm out as a gesture of protection. The guards paused for a moment, not knowing what to make of the audacity of this townie. Then the leader did a double take, staring hard at the teenage elf. Blond hair, glowing, blue eyes, medium height and build, blue tunic, it matched the description of a prisoner that had just…

Any further thoughts were cut off as Jak's arm blurred forward and his fingers knifed into the guard's exposed throat, crushing his windpipe. The other two guards tried to bring their weapons to bear on the young man, but one found Jak's foot on a collision course with his face. There was a crack, and the Krimzon Guard fell back, his faceplate crushed in. The final member of the trio desperately attempted to get a bead on Jak, only to suddenly find the elf's other foot coming in towards his abdomen. He fell to the ground with an unearthly clang, and he suddenly felt a vice like grip around his helmet. His horrified expression would be forever etched into his face as Jak twisted, snapping his neck with a sickening grace.

The other two or so dozen guards had heard the scuffle, though, and were now charging straight for the former Channeler. Then, Jak felt the strange presence within him rise, triggered by his anger. Once more, his vision went crimson, and the animal within took control.

Daxter and the other two watched with a mixture of horror and awe as the demon manifested itself. The Krimzon Guard halted in their tracks, unsure of how to proceed. The monster took that opportunity to throw itself towards them, its claw like fingernails gleaming in the pale moonlight. The first man went down, screaming as "Jak's" talons shredded his titanium-A battle-plate armor like it was made of wet cardboard. The next one to die fired twice, but the shots were wild, and missed completely. He fell to the ground, gurgling as he tried desperately to hold his innards in. The three right behind him fared no better, as slaps from the beast removed faces and limbs. Another attempted to use his rifle as a club, but the creature ducked, and retaliated with a roundhouse kick that sent the K.G. flying a good twenty feet, with his flight being stopped only by the dura-crete wall that he slammed into. Then, the creature leapt up onto the side of one of the slum buildings, using its massive talons to secure itself. There, gazing downward upon the now terrified patrol, it began moving along the wall like a spider, its primitive mindset trying to instinctively calculate the greatest threat.

One guard used this apparent lull to sight the creature up in his rifle's crosshairs. It would prove to be his last mistake. With speed that seemed impossible from its large build, the demon launched itself from where it had been. Its weight and momentum slammed into its target, bearing the elf to the ground. He uttered one horrifying scream, before the monster's teeth cut him off.

Then, the demon roared, and purplish electricity, which Daxter recognized as Channeled Dark Eco, flew from its claws. Six more met death by this means, as the power tore through them, ending their lives before they even had a chance to fathom what had just happened. One of the two remaining Krimzon Guards attempted to flee, but was killed before he had even pivoted around to run. As the monster rushed towards its last target, the elf attempted to bring his rifle up to ward the blow he knew was coming. The creature, however, simply thrust its hand forward, piercing the chestplate of his crimson armor with such force that its hand erupted from the poor elf's back.

It was over. In less than a minute, the patrol had gone from more than two dozen strong to nothing but bloody corpses that littered the ground. Suddenly, Jak's skin returned to its normal color, the talons and horns receded, and his eyes regained their azure hue, complete with the now eerie glow that they possessed

"What…happened?" he asked of his Ottsel friend, as he staggered about, while staring at his blood covered arm in horror.

"Something very, very freaky…let's just leave it at that, okay?" Daxter said, his eyes about as wide as his head.

"Very impressive."

Jak turned to face the old man and the boy, who had finally summoned up the courage to stick his head out from behind the old man, though his face was filled with terror, whether because of the thoughts of capture, or because of what Jak had become, the Eco infused elf knew not. However, now that Jak got a good look at the kid, he felt a strange stirring within his mind, a feeling of nostalgia. He frowned as he stared at the child for a period of time. Somehow, deep within the depths of his mind, he knew he had seen this boy before.

"The Underground could use such fighters as yourself."

Jak snapped out of his musings and stared at the old man with a look of confusion on his face.

"The Underground?"

"They are a resistance group that is waging a guerilla war against that vicious tyrant and his armies. They are lead by an enigmatic figure known as The Shadow. I believe that you might be able to find what it is you seek if you join with them."

"Where can I find this "Shadow"?" Jak inquired.

"You will have to prove your loyalty to them in order to see him. However, I know where you can find one of their bases. Look for a dead-end alley in the northeastern part of the slums. You'll know you have the right one if you spot a large skull and hammer painted on the side of the city wall. Once there, ask for Torn, and tell him that Kor sent you. That should be enough to let you into the group. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must get this boy to safety before any reinforcements come. You had best make yourself scarce if you wish to continue to be free, young man."

And with that, Kor turned around, and ushered the child to follow him. Daxter climbed back up on Jak's shoulder, and then the two of them left the sector, with only mangled bodies to testify that they were ever there to begin with.

* * *

As the sun's rays began to filter through the smog choked alleys and give light to those not blessed with Eco enhanced vision, Jak finally arrived at what he thought was the right place. He trudged around for a few minutes, looking to see if there was some way to enter into the hidden base that Kor had told him about. He was so absorbed in his search, that he didn't realize that he wasn't alone until he felt Daxter be plucked off his shoulder and a curving dagger slide under his throat. 

"I get nervous when new people start snooping around where they shouldn't be." a gravelly voice hissed in his ear.

"I'm looking for someone named Torn." Jak said calmly, he'd been through too much over the past couple of years to let the thought of death phase him in the slightest.

"And I should believe you because?" the man behind him prompted, pressing the knife a little harder.

"Kor sent us! Honest!" Daxter suddenly blurted out.

"Well, that makes things a little interesting." the man said, releasing Jak from his grip.

The young man turned around to see another elf, a little taller and a few years older than himself. His face was tattooed with various geometrical patterns, which Jak noted were similar, but not entirely identical to the kind worn by the K.G., and his brown hair was swept back in dreadlocks. The former Channeler and the Underground fighter stared at each other for a few seconds, measuring each other up. Finally, the elder of the two sheathed his dagger, and chuckled a bit.

"So, you two wanna join the fight for the city, do you? Don't make me laugh. Why don't you and your pet," he snickered over at Daxter, currently held by a young woman, "go join the circus or something? You guys wouldn't last five minutes against the Baron's forces." he sneered.

As he turned to walk off, however, he suddenly reached down for something on his waist. Fumbling for an instant, he pulled out a comm. unit.

"Torn here. Kor and the kid are safe? Good." he paused for a moment, and Jak's sensitive hearing picked up the sound of a conversation on the receiver end of the comm. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I am right now." Torn responded, craning his head over his shoulder to look at Jak. Another pause followed, and Jak saw the elf's eyes widen slightly. "How many guards? With his hands? Okay…." A few more commands crackled over, and after a few moments, Torn killed the signal and turned to face him.

"Alright, Kor's vouching for you. However, I want proof. Head out to the ruined tower in Dead Town, take the Baron's old flag, and bring it back. Pull that off, and you're in." Torn said as he crossed his arms.

The female next to him dropped Daxter, who immediately scurried back up onto his perch on Jak's shoulder. The two looked at each other. Finally Daxter sighed, and promised to show Jak the way out of the city.

* * *

He stared around, taking in his first good look at Dead Town. He grimaced; the place had earned its name well. Crumbling and decayed buildings ran almost as far as his eyes could see, and a disgusting, semi-toxic sludge covered most of the ground, with only a few raised portions not being sodden by the stuff, whatever it was. 

The young elf started out, heading towards the large, half destroyed tower that he could see even from here. However, he had taken only a few steps when he felt something. It was like nothing he could really describe, or anything he had felt before. It started out almost as an itching sensation in the back of his mind, a subtle beckoning to his soul. Almost against his will, he took two steps in the direction of the source of the call, before shaking his head violently. He had a job to do, and it didn't include following up strange feelings inside of his head.

Continuing through the shattered landscape, he soon came across the local residents. Daxter had had a run-in with these particular mutant animals before, and took care to warn him that they were extremely hostile. Nevertheless, however hostile they may have been, they relied on instincts, and thus were no match for Jak, with his intuitive brain, and Eco enhanced reflexes. What truly worried him was the condition of the area that he was in. Several times as he drew close to his destination he had felt the stone and rebar shift underneath his weight, and he knew one wrong move would send him plummeting into the ooze below.

Near the base of the tower, was where disaster first struck. He and Daxter were walking across a bridge that connected the shell of one building to the tower. At about the halfway point, Jak heard a crack, and felt the stone begin to move. Amidst Daxter's terrified screams, Jak kept a level enough head to leap towards the crumbling edge.

The jump should have been impossible, as it was more than twenty feet. Once again, Jak had been saved by what had been done to him. And as he leaned back against leaned back against the dura-crete of the tower, he was forced to fight down a flood of revulsion that filled him. First in his enhanced speed and strength that had enabled him to kill the first three guards with his bare hands, then that…thing, taking over to slaughter the rest of them, and now this. His dependence upon these new abilities was sickening to him, and his memories reminded him of what the price of the power had been. He had lost…no…been robbed of his humanity. The looks of horror etched into the mutilated corpses of the Krimzon Guards, the terrified expression on that child's face as Jak had approached afterwards, and the fact that that monster had nearly made a fur coat out of Daxter when his friend had been trying to free him. All of these recent memories served as a reminder of what had been taken from him.

His anger rose, and for a moment, he felt that animalistic presence rise with it, before he forcefully, perhaps excessively so, shoved back into whatever dark corner of his mind had spawned it.

"Hey, Jak, you okay?" Daxter asked, concern evident in the former elf's voice.

"Yeah, Dax, I'm fine."

"Well then, let's get moving shall we? I don't know about you, but I'm starting to get a little tired, not to mention I could really use a decent meal about now."

"What are you complaining about? I'm the one that's doing all the work." Jak shot back in a good natured way, the first joke he had cracked with his friend since his chaotic arrival to this place.

The duo then began to look about, searching for some way to get up to the tower. The entrance in front of them had caved in, and there were no other obvious ways in. Abruptly, Jak focused on a row of protruding support stones. Seeing no other way, he began leaping from one to the other, the gears in his mind struggling to figure out why they seemed to conveniently spiral upward in a most un-orthodox fashion.

After several minutes and a few more close calls, as the support structures had long ago ceased doing their jobs, Jak and Daxter managed to reach the top. Once inside, it was a fairly simple matter to walk up the stairs that led to where the banner was. Pulling the tattered red flag from its holding place, Jak triumphantly leaned against it.

It was a mistake.

The ledge they were standing on suddenly crumbled, sending both of them plummeting towards the ground. However, an out of the way awning stopped the fall about halfway down, and catapulted the duo up to the lone remaining support cable that connected the tower to another one of the ruined structures. Using the flagpole as a means of balance, Jak slid down the wire. At the last possible moment, he jumped, and landed on a stable piece of land.

Torn was standing there as well, having apparently followed them. And as Daxter came in for a far less graceful landing, the hardened commander was forced to admit, this guy was good. A loud rumbling reached the ears of all three, and they turned as one to see the tower crumbling into a heap of stone and mortar behind them.

"Yeah…I guess you guys are in." Torn said, his voice possessing a rare note of awe.

"It was nothing." Daxter replied cockily, apparently having forgotten he had been screaming like a harpy the whole time they had been falling.

"I'm heading back to the hideout, you guys head to the gate that you came out of, and go back that way." the hardened soldier told them, and then he turned around, and began to climb the ruined wall behind him.

As their new commander disappeared back into Haven, the two began to wander about, taking things a bit slowly, lest there be a repeat of what had just happened.

However, as Jak neared the city, he once again felt a subtle pulsing within his blood. He tried to shut it out, as he had before, but found that he could not, as it was more forceful, more demanding this time. Something was definitely calling to him, and now he could no more resist it than the ancient sailors could resist the call of a siren. Almost in a trance, he walked and carefully avoided the toxic water of the destroyed town, ignoring Daxter's protests throughout the whole time.

The former Channeler's journey took him to the edge of a pile of rubble. The call was louder here, nearly deafening. Something was underneath all that debris, and it wanted to be freed. Mystified, and more than a little frightened about his lack of control of the situation, Jak proceeded to remove block by block, the rubble that he stood on. Vaguely, he thought he could hear his mutated friend calling out to him, but cast such thoughts aside. There was only this call, filling his mind now, demanding that he answer it. Helpless to resist, Jak continued in his task.

* * *

Finally, after what seemed to be the better part of an hour, he cast aside one last block. Suddenly, the strange calling left his mind, and he beheld the object of his search. It was still trapped within some of the debris, but it was unmistakably the grip and hilt of a sword. Hesitantly, he reached down to grab it, but before he could, something amazing happened. Dark bolts of lighting, very much akin to what his devilish alter-ego had unleashed, leapt from the blade, surging into him. The feeling of it was strange, it did not hurt, nor was it entirely unpleasant. In all actuality, it was soothing in a way, and even the animal inside of him, whose instincts had been screaming to get away from this thing, was suddenly put at ease. 

The sword rattled, and suddenly leapt, scabbard and all, into his hand. The former Channeler then recognized the blade as a katana, and was once more startled, this time by how at home and natural this thing felt in his hands. For a while, he simply stared at the weapon, and felt its strange power surge through him.

Eventually, Jak pulled the weapon free from its scabbard, and felt his breath leave his lungs. The sword was magnificent. The blade glowed orange in the morning light, and he could see part of his awestruck face staring back at him. The blade, hilt, and scabbard were plain, with one very notable exception. Along the blade's length, inscribed in black, was an ancient runic script. The elf recognized it as Precursor writing, and though a tad rusty, as he hadn't had much of a chance to review what Samos had taught him while in prison, he was still able to translate the message.

_Ye who would wield me, know that I am Kitetsu, Blade of Darkness. And those not endowed and attuned to the Shadows, can never hope to use me to my true potential. _

Jak blinked, and read the script again, and then once more. He couldn't rule out the possibility of a mistranslation, but still… He also realized that though he had never before beheld a weapon that was as masterfully crafted as this one, he knew on some unconscious level that he had seen it before.

Something else, like a memory, flashed through his mind, and he looked closely at the scabbard. He slid the sword back into its covering, and his large ears picked up the sound of a small click. Jak then, for reasons unknown, flipped it upside down. The sword did not fall free as he had expected it to, and he understood that the katana had some sort of locking mechanism in the scabbard. Strange, but now that he thought about it, it would enable the weapon to be concealed more easily. Reaching a decision, he strapped the weapon to his back, with the grip facing towards the ground.

Then, the young elf drew the blade again, continuing to marvel at how it seemed so innate to him. He swung it once, bringing it up from below in a stroke that would have split an unsuspecting opponent in half. From there, he reversed it, bringing the katana down and at an angle that would have taken out someone beside him. He fell into a strange pattern, going through combat techniques, attack combos, and defensive maneuvers that he had never even seen before, yet somehow knew how to perform nigh flawlessly.

After a time, he stopped. Try as Jak might, there was still something about this weapon that unnerved him, and he continued to gaze upon the blade, as though by peering into his own reflection long enough he might somehow force it to surrender its secrets unto him.

It was then that Daxter, who through some act of God had managed to keep his mouth shut for more than twenty minutes, found his voice again. Not surprisingly, his first words were a half-arsed attempt at a wisecrack.

"Hail, King Arthur!"

Jak snapped back to reality, staring down at his furry companion. He raised an eyebrow at Daxter.

"What?" the Ottsel asked with a shrug of his shoulders.

Jak simply sighed, and re-sheathed the sword, before motioning for Daxter to clamber back up. As the sun began to rise higher into the sky, the two began to make their way back towards their new home.

* * *

Praxis felt the paper crinkle in his hand. It was a report about the raid on the slum sector. For the most part, it had been a disaster, with a full fifty percent of his men dead. Normally, the Baron would have attributed it to an Underground ambush. However, the group that had found the patrol had described them as basically looking as if they had been put through a meat grinder, which, thanks to some security camera footage of a certain experiment making his escape, significantly narrowed the list. He looked down at Errol, who paced back and forth at the foot of the throne. 

"Well, it appears as though our project wasn't as great of a failure as we thought it was." the Commander muttered.

"I want him found, Commander. If he could do this with that much Dark Eco in him, think of the possibilities. We could turn the tables on those Metal Heads once and for all." Praxis said with a sinister chuckle.

* * *

Sooooo, how did you people like it? And before anyone says it, yes, I realize that giving Jak a sword is somewhat cliche. However, all the weapons I've ever read about him receiving before where always some sort of holy artifact, I've never actually seen him using a weapon that actually drew on the darkness within our favorite Channeler. 

And let me assure you, Kitetsu is not a weapon of the light. For those of you unfamiliar with it, it is the blade wielded by Doku, a demonic samurai from Ninja Gaiden, and the fiend has used the cursed blade to cut through entire legions of his opponents. To those of you have played that game, and have actually used Kitesue, Jak will eventually be able to do everything that Doku and Ryu did with the blade, but not right away, quite obviously.

Also, feel free to leave any form of comment, from constructive criticism to flame, just let me know how you liked it, or send me an idea if you have one.

Thanks, and have a great day.


	3. Delivery Boy

Delivery Boy

Good afternoon, evening, or whatever time of day it might happen to be wherever you are. Well, I said that I'd try and get this up in about a week, and here it is, hopefully not as horrible as I think it to be. Anyways, to those of you who have reviewed.

Light-Eco-Sage- Read that one myself, hope you liked the comment that I left, and please update it soon.

Lunatic Pandora1- Thanks, and you should really play that game. Its alot like Prince of Persia, only with more advanced A.I. enemies that are totally unforgiving and eviscerate you the very instant that you make a mistake.

gohan11- why are you so obssessed about tar and feathering me? Did I do something to you in a past life or something? Regardless, glad you liked it.

Also, to any lawyers who have nothing better to do than cruise through here looking for people who have simply forgotten their disclaimers, I own nothing of this franchise and go out and get a life!

That said, here's chapter three.

* * *

The shockwave from the explosion propelled the two of them forward. As they went sailing through a window, Jak felt his back blister under the heat. However, any concerns that he might have had for that particular region for his body took secondary priority as he realized that he and Dax were being shot straight towards a building. That thought had just registered when he plowed into it.

The next thing he was aware of was a sensation of weightlessness, and the distinctive screaming of a certain orange critter. The former Channeler was jolted back to full awareness when he hit the ground with a sickening thud. Shaking his head, and being certain to make sure that the red cloth still covered his face, hiding his identity, he looked around.

"Dax?" He called out, being unable to see his friend.

On cue, he felt a squirming underneath him, and Daxter's head suddenly poked out.

"This place has too much excitement." the Ottsel said, panting, "We need to move back to the country."

Jak chuckled and got to his feet, attempting to dust himself off in the process. Moments later, a slightly squashed Daxter was up on his shoulder again. Together, they slunk off through the shadows of the slum buildings, Jak smiling the whole time. The detonation of the ammo dump had given the Fortress a new sky roof, and the rumbling shockwave had probably interrupted even Baron Praxis' sleep.

These revenges, both small and large, made the dark elf feel good. He knew he was paying the tyrant back for all the years of agony and suffering that he had been put through. However, nothing would be good enough until he had taken care of both the Baron, and that psychopath, Errol. Until he had made both of them beg for mercy, before killing them off in a fiendishly slow and painful manner.

* * *

When they arrived back at the base, it was aflutter with its usual activity. There were guerilla soldiers taking breaks, others were priming and cleaning weapons, some were at work on the zoomer bikes that were often used with the resistance's hit and run raids on the Baron's convoy's, and a couple were making homemade C-4 and other such explosives like the ones that Jak had used to rip the top off of the Fortress.

Wearily, the dark elf made his way to the command area, where Torn awaited. The hardened commander stood in his usual spot, pouring over maps of the various city sectors. Behind him, one could see posters of both Baron Praxis and Commander Errol, each one of them having some rather…creative remarks written on them.

"Report." Torn growled, not even bothering to stare up from what he was doing.

"The demolition duo has returned, one barbequed ammo dump, served up hot!" Daxter replied in his usual cheeky way, earning him a frown from his superior.

"While we were there, we did see something interesting." Jak added. "Praxis had his guards giving barrels full of Eco to a group of metal heads." the Eco infused elf told his commander, while remembering the scene in his mind.

Torn paused for a moment, and then looked up.

"Really? Hmmm, The Shadow will be very interested to hear that." he responded in genuine concern.

"You know, so far your gigs have been easier than stealing grass from a sleeping yakow. When do we get to do something really challenging?" Daxter inquired.

"So, you guys want to really start irritating the Guard?" Torn asked, getting him a pair of affirmative nods.

"Okay then. One of our "suppliers" needs his payment delivered, a bag of Eco ore. Get some sleep, and I'll wake you at 0600 to deliver it."

Jak nodded, and then turned on his heel, and left his commander to head for the barracks. When at last he arrived he sighed contently, removed his weapons, and flopped down on one of the cots to get some shut-eye.

* * *

The Rift Machine was built and ready, much to Keira's relief. The aqua haired elf had spent many a day trying to repair the damaged creation that they had found. The Rift Gate, pulsing from the power of whatever Precursor technologies were keeping it up, floated serenely just off of a small dock by the three room house she shared with Samos.

"I just hope we didn't break anything carrying it from the lab." Keira said nervously, running her hands over the strange vehicle, before climbing into the seating bench at the front of the device.

"What are you complaining about? Jak and I did all the heavy lifting!" Daxter whined.

Jak just rolled his eyes and grinned, before taking a seat next to the girl.

"I just hope you know what you are doing." Samos, the Green Eco Sage replied. "Though the Precursors vanished long ago, the artifacts that they left behind are powerful indeed, and can be used for great evil."

"Or great good." Keira added, pointing at her adoptive father.

"I simply want you to be prepared, especially you, Jak, for whatever happens." The sage responded, his tone serious.

"Yeah, yeah, we hear ya, gramps, now get in here!" Daxter grumbled impatiently.

The sage clambered in, and Jak pressed the strange gem that activated the machine. Almost instantly, the beams of power had lanced out from the contraption, striking the Rift Gate, and causing it to open. Nearly as quickly, strange, insectoid creatures had come swarming out. They had been followed by the visage of a horrendous monster, almost as massive as the Rift itself.

"You cannot hide from me, boy!" it roared.

Then things happened in a blur, as Jak pressed the gem once more, and the Rift Machine shot forward into the swirling abyss. There was a blast of energy, and they were all separated. Then came the capture, and the tortures were soon to follow.

* * *

Jak bolted upright, panting. Yet again he had been forced to relive the nightmarish events that had cast him into the life he now lived. As his breathing calmed, his thoughts drifted to the others. Keira, Samos, had fate been kinder to them? Where were they?

He leaned his head forward, how he missed the two of them. Samos, wise beyond reckoning, offering his sagely advice whenever he saw fit, whether Daxter had felt it had been necessary or not. Keira, the optimistic tech-head, who had always been trying to find something to fiddle with or examine.

Keira, the thought of her tore at him. They had grown up together. As far back as the dark elf had been able to remember, she and Daxter had been a part of his life, his very existence. Whereas the other children had found his muteness as something to poke fun at, the aqua haired elf had instead seen someone who just needed a friend. This bond had grown, until friendship became something more, until it was even able to overcome his inability to talk. Keira had learned that if she wanted to know what he thought of something, she had only to look into his eyes, and everything was made plain as day.

He snorted bitterly. What would she think of him now? What would Keira think when she stared into his eyes, and saw, instead of the cheerful glow they had had in Sandover, a pair of blue stars that burned only with the fires of vengeance? The boy she had known and who had cared for her with all of his heart was gone, that person had died with the first of the injections, when the beatings and tortures began. The boy had simply not been strong enough to survive under those circumstances. Now, there was only the warrior, and the demon.

Speaking of which, he glowered inwardly as his thoughts drifted back to Keira, he felt the beast's presence rise once more. However, this time there was no hostility, no animalistic rage, just an instinctive curiosity. The creature's primitive mindset seemed to be trying to figure out what was the significance of this other elf, why she was so important to its host. For some reason that he couldn't fathom at the time, Jak let it roam as it wished through his mind and memories, until it once again withdrew, its curiosity apparently satisfied.

He looked over to a clock that was hanging on the wall; it read 5:20 in the morning. Thinking now was as good a time as any, Jak shook Daxter awake. Ignoring the death glare that he got from the Ottsel, the former Channeler trudged off towards the mess hall, looking forward to a meal.

* * *

"Yeck, how can you stand that stuff?"

"Simple, Dax, after two years of prison food, you learn to eat anything that has nutritional value to it."

"You mean that stuff actually had nutrients in it?" Daxter replied incredulously.

Jak simply chuckled at his friend. The breakfast had been the usual: a porridge type substance that had the consistency of runny eggs, but hey, food was food, right? The furry rodent on his shoulder had gone about his now to be expected tirade about there not being anything worth eating, but in the end, it had not been enough to stop the Ottsel from indulging heavily in the grub.

When they arrived at the command center, Torn looked up, motioned for them to come over to where he was. He then gestured to the map that he was staring at.

"You're to take the package to a bar located within the south town port, the Hip Hog Heaven Saloon. Once you arrive, deliver it to the owner, Krew. After that, I want you to pump Krew for information, he's wired into the city, and might know why the Baron's letting the Metal Heads walk off with all the Eco they can carry."

Jak nodded, confirming that he and Daxter understood their orders. For the moment, he simply stared at the map, trying to memorize the fastest route from where they were to the port area. Once he was satisfied that he knew the route, he left, Daxter following at his heels.

* * *

"Hawkeye reporting in, the way looks clear. Turn the delivery boy loose." an unnamed Underground member radioed in.

As the acknowledgement crackled over the radio, a portion of the garage wall slide away, revealing the run down alley in which the base was housed. The hover bike roared out, complete with a screaming orange rodent. Moments later, the wall resealed itself, hiding the large doorway in its entirety.

Jak whooped as he raced through the streets. He loved these zoomers, the thrill of being able to cruise above the ground at high speeds, the rush of adrenaline that it gave him, it was one of the few things that could actually make him forget the pain of the past. All the memories of the beatings and experiments were swept away by the feeling of the wind rushing through his hair and howling in his ears and teasing at the edges of the trench coat he was wearing over his gear.

He changed hover zones as he left the slums, allowing him to maneuver with more freedom do to the lower number of other zoomers present. The former Channeler was doing his best to keep a low profile on the bike, obeying all traffic laws, not doing anything that would call attention to himself or the package of Eco ore that was strapped to the rear of the vehicle.

His thoughts were swept away again, once more thinking of his lost companions. Daxter said that he had kept an eye out for them while he had tried to find a way to spring him from the slammer, but hadn't had much luck. Jak sighed bitterly at the notion of Keira and Samos being lost somewhere in this war-torn place and him being unable to help them. If the past two years had taught him one thing, it was that Haven was anything but what its name implied it to be. What if something had happened?

Jak was abruptly brought back to reality in a rather harsh way. He saw, directly in front of him, a Krimzon Guard roadblock. They were stopping every vehicle, checking out the drivers, examining speeders, and looking in packages. Jak cursed his luck, if he pulled out to head the other way, it might arouse suspicion, and he couldn't go forward. Besides, they would definitely ask him about the bag of ore.

Fortunately, the Eco infused elf was notorious for his abilities to think on his feet, and this time proved to be no exception. He suddenly yanked up the red cowl of his uniform, covering his faced, jammed the accelerator pedal down, and changed hover zones at the same time. He shot past the startled guards, leaning forward in the seat to increase his speed. He heard various shouts as the Krimzon Guard put their own bikes in gear and tore off after him.

Seconds later, he felt a searing heat, and an Eco burst whizzed by his ear. It was soon joined by others as the Guard tried to force him down. Immediately, Jak set about doing evasive maneuvers. He dodged left, then right, switching hover zones randomly, trying to throw their aim off, and even swerving into oncoming lanes of traffic. For a brief instant, he also entertained the idea of drawing the pistol that he had been issued as well, but then tossed the notion aside. Even if the gun packed a sufficient punch to damage the armored bikes, he'd have to take his eyes off the traffic in front of him, pivot around, and to shoot a moving target at ninety miles an hour while trying to avoid the K.G., who were very enthusiastically returning the favor. While not exactly a math genius, the dark elf realized that the odds of a shot connecting under those circumstances were nearly astronomical. He was still thinking about a way to overcome this disadvantage when the chase took him into the industrialized sector of the city

People looked up from their early morning routines as they heard the chase scream by. Some shook their heads, apparently not at all surprised about high speed chases tearing through the industrial sector these days, but Jak could have sworn that he saw a few of them cheer silently, rooting for him as he led the Guard on a wild goose chase throughout Haven City.

He changed his hover zone again, diving in close to the ground. At the same time, he leaned to the left and pulled back on the handlebars, sending the zoomer into a hard turn. The result was for him to start roaring down a side alley at triple digit speeds. Five of the six guard cycles following him compensated in time to make the turn, but the last one didn't, and Jak heard the explosion as the bike slammed into the dura-crete and titanium of the building.

The elf snarled as he looked back over his shoulder. He had underestimated his opponents' biking skills, and now here he was, racing down a back street with no room to maneuver. However, the former Channeler had a guardian angel, or something of that nature, as none of the shots that managed to rake the speeder hit anything vital, though it did cause Daxter to scream loud enough to nearly deafen him.

As he blasted out of the alley, he made another hard turn, putting him in the general direction of the port. The Krimzon Guard kept up in hot pursuit, firing at him indiscriminately, not caring if there happened to be any civilians in the way. It was then that a stroke of insanity decided to hit him. Boy, were his pursuers in for one nasty surprise.

"Hang on, Dax!" he shouted.

"Jak, wha'cha doing?" Daxter said, tightening his grip on his friend's shoulder.

Jak remained silent, opting instead to reach back and draw Kitetsu from its sheath. It gleamed brightly in the early morning sun, and seemed to hum in tune with his heartbeat as he whipped it around to where he held it normally, rather than the knife fighter style required to draw the dark blade. Without giving his pursuers any time to possibly think about what he was about to do, he suddenly hit the brakes, and yanked down hard on the left side of the handlebars. The result was to put the hover bike in a tight horizontal roll while bringing it to a screeching halt.

He stuck his right arm out, and tightened his grip on his blade as much as he possibly could. The troopers behind him did not know what to do, having never encountered such a crazy tactic before. Dumbstruck, they surged ahead, simply trying to get out of the way of the apparently insane Underground fighter.

Jak felt resistance twice, and the resulting strain nearly wrenched his arm from its socket. The armor on the bikes used by Praxis' men was designed to absorb and distribute heat created by Eco blasters, not deflect the blade of a masterfully crafted katana. Such was the advantage of apparently archaic technology. The runed sword sheared through the nose of one bike, destroying the controls and sending it and its rider on a one way trip to the tarmac. The completion of the barrel roll drove the blade home again, slicing the engines off of another zoomer. The rider had time to utter one terrified scream before he impacted against the street, lighting up the block with a blossom of fire and shrapnel.

Three down, three to go. As the remaining Guard members tried to turn their bikes around to renew the pursuit, Jak rocketed forward, blade held down at an angle. His intended target looked up again just in time to see the sun's glare reflecting off Kitetsu as the former Channeler extended it straight out. An instant later, the katana flashed again, blood pooling in the runes along the blade, and the trooper's corpse, now deprived of its head, fell to the ground below.

The remaining two fell into flanking position rapidly, their guns blasting wildly. For a brief instant, he thought about repeating his previous tactic, but decided against it, they would expect something like that. Instead, he spotted another golden opportunity to remove them from the situation.

He had finally arrived at the harbor, and now he shot down, shrieking towards the water. He pulled up at the last moment, the controls of his speeder screaming in protest. The two Krimzon Guard followed at a slightly higher level, and continued blasting at him. An abrupt swerve to the left sent him curving around one of the many towers that were used for loading cargo onto ships, and effectively put him out of sight of his pursuers.

They were moving too fast, their vision was too restricted, for them to see what had been done. When they came to a stop, they looked about, perplexed as to where the young elf could have disappeared to.

That question was answered a moment later when Jak sudden popped up from underneath one, his katana tearing out its undercarriage and effectively killing its engine. The Guard also plummeted into the water. Under normal circumstances, a fall of forty feet into deep water, would, at worst, leave one with a sore stomach. However, the Krimson Guard standard issue armor alone weighed close to fifty pounds, and when combined with wet clothing, made for it being the modern equivalent of being dropped into a lake in medieval plate mail and being expected to swim in it. Needless to say, the hapless elf sank like an anvil.

His compatriot met a similar fate when Jak powered up his engines, and blasted right across the windshield of the bike. The hot backwash of the zoomer's engines seared the elf's face, blinding and disorienting him. He tried to get his bike moving, to get away from this strange foe, but before he could, there was a white hot explosion across his chest, followed by Death's icy grip.

As the corpse toppled from the bike, Jak hovered around behind it. A quick stab of his sword into the engine system caused it to follow its rider's path. Satisfied that he had covered his tracks as best he could, Jak zipped across the harbor.

* * *

Okay, to answer a few questions before they are asked. I gave Jak a coat to conceal his armor and weapons because his appearance in the game virtually screams "Underground resistance fighter, please come and arrest me!" I mean, he's walking around with a huge freaking gun strapped to his back and no one else even bats an eye at this, not in real life.

Also, I have a request to make, two actually. One, if anyone knows what in the world that scarf/cowl/whatever it is that Jak wears around his neck is called, please let me know. And the other is does anyone know what the different kinds of Metal Heads are called, as I would really like to be able to be able to have the official ones, rather than some wacky titles I came up with myself.

Thanks, and please let me know how I am doing.


	4. The Fast, The Strong, and The Morbidly O...

The Fast, The Strong, and The Morbidly Obese

Hello again, people. Glad that I managed to get this thing uploaded in time, as my family is planning a rather lengthy reunion/vacation that's going to take me away from my writings for a while. In the meantime, I hope that this suffices for all you you who are graciously taking time out of your busy lives to read the work of this amatuer.

Light-Eco-Sage- Thank you, thank you, thank you for that list, you cannot imagine how grateful I am for it. I also hope that you are enjoying the story, and be sure to point out anything that I get wrong. (bows politely)

Smoke- Actually, the reason for Jak's iniate abilty to use Kitetsu will be explained soon, courtesy of a certain blind seer. On another note, I am glad that you think I am doing so well, and I thank you.

Lunatic Pandora1- At first, our little inner demon won't appear very frequently, though he will have some influence on the plot, and Keira will definitely get an eye-full of him. However, at a certain point, Dark Jak will undergo an evolution, whereupon he will become a far more critical element to the story line. If you like, I could e-mail you a brief synopsis of the plot.

To all blood sucking lawyers- I do not own this game or anything related to it, so you cannot sue me!

With that said, here's chapter four, may it hopefully be up to your expectations.

* * *

He could see the Hip Hog in the distance. Right now, he had parked his speeder about a mile or so back, hiding it underneath one of the piers that dotted the place. His luminescent eyes darted about, constantly probing the surroundings for guards. His package tucked safely under his arm, Jak increased his pace, wanting to get this job over with. 

"Jak…" Daxter said, the first words he had spoken since his friend had performed the little roll stunt, and he still hadn't released his death grip on Jak's shoulder.

"Yeah, Dax?"

"You. Are. Completely. Psycho!" the Ottsel shouted.

"Keep it down, will ya?" Jak hissed, not wanting to draw undo attention to himself as they approached their drop off point.

They stepped through the front door of the bar, Daxter having finally calmed down enough to let go, and allow Jak to get some circulation back into his arm. They looked around. The saloon had booths set up on either side of the walls, and a sizable selection of drinks, both alcoholic and non, were on display at the rear of the place. The center was dominated by a large boxing ring, and along every conceivable surface, were the heads of the beastly menace that the population feared like Death himself.

Standing near the bar, was an elf. He was tall; nearly seven feet in height, and built like a tank. Adding to his imposing figure was a strange suit of body armor, seemingly composed of various pieces of Metal Head skeletons. What truly caught their attention, though, was his face. An eye of emerald green stared at them, but the other was artificial, and bore resemblance to one of the IR sensors on Jak's goggles.

"Let me handle this, Jak, just watch my finesse and style." Daxter said coolly.

The Ottsel waltzed right between the man's legs, not caring a wit for what he might think.

"One side, big guy."

However, the rodent was stopped short a moment later, as something descended from the ceiling on a hover unit. Jak's first thought was that this must be Krew, his second, was something along the lines of 'Oh my God, how is it possible to get that fat?'

"Are you Krew?" he asked, once he had finally stopped gawking at the man's obesity.

"Who's asking?" the corpulent…thing…replied with a growl.

Jak simply extended his arms, showing the carefully wrapped package of Eco ore. Krew's one eye, the other one was glazed over for some reason, took on a greedy look, and he hovered over to Jak, and swiftly deprived him of his package.

"This is good, ey, as a bag of rare Eco ore, is worth more than ten of your lives! And of course, I'd be forced to collect…slowly." he said with a sinister chuckle.

"Well, I do hope you're satisfied," Daxter growled, "'cause we had to deep-six half a dozen Krimzon Guards to get it to ya!"

"Is that so, well…I must say, that takes some skill, ey?" the bar owner mused, rubbing his six chins. "Sig, why don't you give our errand boys here, a little something extra for their trouble?"

The big elf nodded and walked over to them slowly. Jak stared intently at the eyes of the enforcer, and Daxter backed up nervously. However, once he got up close, he reached behind him, and pulled out a strange looking weapon. It looked vaguely like the pistol that he already had, but it was larger, with several knobs and switches adorning the area around the grip. He extended it, butt first, to Jak.

The teenager gripped the weapon carefully. It was lightweight, and he could see that it was fed by bottom loaded power packs, however, the gun was also a tad heavy on the barrel end of it. He continued to examine the blaster, and thinking back, could not seem to recall observing such a weapon being used amongst the Underground.

"What is it?" he ventured to ask.

"It's called a morph-gun." Sig told him in a baritone voice. "That baby is the final word in military infantry technology. The gun's outfitted with several devices that allow for it to have mods installed on it, which lets you change it to a different weapon with the push of a button of the flip of a switch. They're state of the art, and far superior to that standard issue pea-shooter you got on you right now."

Now he remembered. He had seen a few of the veteran Underground members carrying such weapons, but never one with this particular blaster type.

"Then why doesn't the Krimzon Guard use these things?" Jak said, still trying to get a feel for the gun.

"We have a different supplier than they do." Krew said, returning from wherever he had floated off to. "She supplies us with these guns, and after we take a small transition fee, in the form of a…handful of the weapons, we deliver the rest of them to your little freedom fighter movement."

"In other words, it's a black market weapon." Jak remarked.

"I would prefer the term, Freelance Arms Specialist, but call it what you will, its still gets the same results." Krew said with a laugh.

"In any event," Sig spoke up, "your gun only has one mode at the moment, and that one's called the magnum, and don't let its size fool you. That gun packs a bigger punch than most rifles, and in the right hands, you might even be able to blast a K.G. speeder bike out of the air. But enough talking about it, you wanna give it a test run?"

"Sure." the former Channeler told him.

"Okay, follow me." Sig told the duo with a smile.

Behind the bar, Sig smacked an ordinary looking dura-crete block. A moment later, part of the floor opened up, revealing a staircase. The enforcer motioned for Jak and Daxter to follow him down the stairs. As they descended, Sig pressed a switch, and lights flickered on. They were inside a strange room. Along the walls, were racks with enough weapons and ammo to fend off a small invasion force, with strange things that Jak could only assume were blaster accessories. Two heavy metal doors also stood before them, each one nestled into a wall.

"This is Krew's gun course, where his men try to hone their blaster skills." the armorclad Sig informed them " Ya never know when you're gonna run into a group of guards, mutants, or worse, a pack of Metal Heads. Grab some ammo, and head through the door on your right, kid."

Jak nodded, stepped forward, and grabbed an ammo belt and a double handful of power packs. He slid one in, and smiled at the satisfying click it made, also noting how the weapon was now balanced. He felt it hum, and a readout near the handgrip showed him at full ammo. Sig went over to a computer station and started typing in commands.

"Okay, kiddies, here's your first course. Step inside and I'll guide ya through it."

The door slid closed as Jak stepped inside carefully, Daxter still perched upon his shoulder. The former Channeler could see the tracks on which the targets would spring up and move. Further staring revealed the place was built like a cityscape.

"Okay, boys, the rules of the game are simple: shoot the Metal Head targets, the faster you shoot, and the more you kill overall, the more points you get. You will, however, be deducted and penalized for shooting civilians, or wasting ammo, you copy?"

"Loud and clear." Jak responded.

"Before you get started, let me give you a few more pointers about that cannon you're toting. The magnum's clip has sixty rounds, and the gun itself has three modes of fire: semi auto, burst fire, and a charge shot. Semi auto fires one shot per squeeze of the trigger, and its good for faraway targets, accurate up to about five hundred feet. Here, take a crack at this guy."

A single target popped up. Jak took aim, and squeezed the trigger. The first thing that the dark elf noted was that this magnum had significantly higher recoil than the pistol the Underground had given him, and was also a hell of a lot louder, but the sheer power this pistol possessed more than compensated for it. As Daxter yelped from the unexpected amount of racket, the bolt of Eco slammed home, reducing the Metal Head to a few shards of cardboard.

"Not bad, rookie, not bad at all." Sig mused.

"Yeah, nice shooting, Jak." Daxter exclaimed, recovering his composure and jumping up and down on his friend's shoulder.

"Okay, now try burst mode. To change your fire mode, flick the little lever located just above the trigger area." The massive bodyguard told them.

Jak looked at the gun, saw what Sig was referring to, and flipped it. He repeated the process several times, getting to where he was comfortable with it and knew exactly how much force was required to move the device. Once he was ready he held the blaster pistol up, and Sig started giving them the run down on that mode of attacking.

"Burst fire's my personal favorite, squeezes off a quick three shots, much better for taking down Metal Heads, and still capable of bull's eyeing one of those nasty critters at three hundred feet or more. Have whirl with it."

Three targets appeared, and were almost as rapidly gunned down.

"Finally, you have the charge shot. This blast takes about two or so seconds to charge up, and will drain fifteen shots from your pack." Sig warned him. "On the other hand, it's got a limited homing capability, and it'll tear through titanium-A like nobody's business, so use this on heavily armored targets only, you read me?"

"Roger." Jak responded.

The words had scarcely left his mouth when a new target zipped in from the side. This type of Metal Head cutout was different from the others, a type that Jak had never seen before. Also, this one had armor, apparently taken from some hapless guard and reworked to resemble that which the Metal Heads wore. Jak did as Sig had instructed, adjusting the firing mechanism yet again and holding down the trigger. There was a humming sound, and the gun began to shake violently after a couple of seconds. The dark elf then released the trigger.

The gun flew up from the power of the shot, and a bolt larger around than the elf's fist leapt from the barrel of the magnum. It smashed into its target, punched through the armor on it, and kept going until it blew a good sized hole in the course walls.

Another such target came out, and met with a similar fate. As Daxter whistled, Jak felt the gun pulse faintly, and he looked down to see that the power readout was at zero. He reached down with his pinky, and pressed the release catch. The empty power pack slipped to the ground with a clatter, and Jak replaced it with one motion. He felt it hum once more, and flicked the firing switch back down to burst.

"Okay, rookie, here it goes for real."

Jak raised the gun, looking around carefully. Suddenly, a Metal Head popped up to his right. He twisted, and fired, the three shot burst tore it to pieces. He heard the sound of another one popping up, behind him, he turned, and a trio of high-pitched discharges testified to its demise as well.

Onward he continued, destroying the artificial enemies. Once or twice, he had gotten overly-eager and had accidentally mowed down a hapless elf that popped up. But he was rapidly improving, and Sig whistled to himself as he monitored the boy's progress.

About halfway through the course, Krew had floated down to see how the Underground errand runner was doing. The bar owner had seen many people fight their way through this simulated battle environment, but never had he beheld someone doing so well on their first try.

"The lad's good, ey?" he asked Sig.

"So far, he's doing better than about half of our boys, and that's including the vets." the armored elf told his boss, gesturing with his thumb to a computer monitor that held the readouts of the high-scores.

"Hmmm, let's see how he does under pressure." the obese man told his guard.

Sig smiled then, and punched in a few commands on the computer.

From where he was, Jak could see the other door, and knew that he was nearing the end of the course. A few more targets and he'd be done. Or so he thought. Without warning, dozens emerged from all around him. For a moment, the Eco infused elf was at a loss for what to do, until an idea hit him.

Sig and Krew watched, perplexed, as Jak flipped his gun into his left hand, and pulled out Kitetsu from within his trench coat.

"What is that rookie doing?" Sig mused aloud, while his disgustingly overweight employer was more concerned about the fact that the Underground fighter had been able to sneak that weapon by him.

Jak began to move about, spinning and jumping, his dark katana cutting down the targets closest to him. He spun around again, decapitating one that was behind him, and at the same time, he stuck his left arm out. He stared out of the corner of his eye at the more distant targets. The bolts flew from the pistol, scything through the cardboard and leaving only smoldering wreckage.

Tucking his arm back in, he turned once more. A pair of angled slashes brought down two more "Metal Heads", and blue energy sailed out between the whirling blade, ripping the targets apart. This was followed by a ten foot leap, with the dark elf performing a twist about halfway through that cleaved the head and left shoulder from a target, whilst the magnum's booming testified to other "kills".

For a full ten seconds, he kept up this unusual way of fighting. He didn't get all the targets, but when he was through, most of them had been reduced to scraps of waste. He heard a bell ringing, and clicked the safety on. As the door opened, Sig stepped inside.

"What the heck was that?" the burly elf asked, genuinely surprised at the amount of co-ordination that Jak possessed. Sig was no stranger to combat, but had never seen anyone who had the multitasking capabilities to use both a gun and a close range weapon in cohesion with each other. Still, he could not deny the effectiveness of the strategy.

Jak simply shrugged, and suddenly noticed that Daxter had once again gripped him hard enough to cut off circulation, and was pale as a ghost.

"Dax, what's wrong?" he asked, his tone concerned.

"Do you…have any…idea…how close…you came…_to hitting me with that oversized toothpick!_" the Ottsel screeched.

"Well, cherry, maybe you should consider moving along the ground on your own two feet." Sig said, looking at the orange rodent with his cybernetic eye.

It was then that the armored bodyguard's gaze drifted to something else. The blade that the other elf gripped in his right hand. Sig couldn't believe it, but that sword was unmistakable.

"How'd I do?" Jak inquired, yanking him back to earth, while at the same time he noted Sig's interest in his weapon.

"Weeeeelllll," Sig told him, "Your point total was in excess of eight thousand, no small part of which was due to that fancy ballerina stuff you pulled off towards the end."

"And what's a normal score?" the dark elf asked, cocking his head slightly.

"Usually somewhere in the three to four thousand area, you're a natural at this, kid." Sig told him, and let it be known that he did not hand out such compliments unless they were earned.

Jak simply smiled in his now grim fashion. Perhaps with these weapons…

"Matter of fact, I think Krew would like to have a little chat with you." Sig continued "Load back up and head upstairs, we'll talk there."

Jak headed over to the ammo rack, and picked up another handful of energy packs, sliding them home in his belt as he went back up to the bar room. He walked out from behind the serving counter, and saw Sig and Krew engaged in a hushed conversation. They looked up as he entered, and Krew smiled, baring his unsightly teeth.

"Sig was just telling me about your performance, excellent work, Jak. Tell me, have you ever considered becoming a Wastelander?" the fat man inquired, rubbing his pudgy hands together.

"Can't say that I have." Jak replied truthfully.

"Wastelanders are people who find artifacts and weapons for me outside the city walls, ey. Any weapon worth having comes through my hands. If you consider working for me, I'll toss a few of the sweeter items your way." Krew proposed as he floated closer to the former Channeler.

Jak pondered for a moment. This Wastelander thing sounded promising, but he had a responsibility to the Underground as well, or more appropriately, a responsibility to seeing to the demise of a certain local tyrant. But, then again, weren't Krew and the Underground allied against the Baron at the moment? Even if it seemed that both were using each other as a means to an end, they were nonetheless united in a common cause. Finally, the young elf made his decision.

"Kill Metal Heads, get toys, sounds good to me." Jak answered, his voice chilled and venomous.

"That's the spirit, boy!" the miniature blimp said with a chuckle, "I'll let Sig explain the rest to you."

"But I'm not doing anything until you tell me why the Baron's forces are giving Eco to the Metal Heads." Jak finished.

Krew growled, but after weighing out the pros and cons in his calculating mind, could see no harm in telling the boy. Besides, if it would solidify the loyalty of this young warrior, it would be all the better.

"All I know, is that the Baron struck a desperate deal with the Metal Head leader. Those monsters need Eco, so the Baron provides them with regular shipments, and in return, they attack the city just enough to ensure that Praxis stays in power." the bar owner told Jak, who detected a slight bit of grudging admiration in Krew's voice. "He needs this war to stay where he is, otherwise the city would put the true ruler on the throne, wherever that little brat is."

Jak's eyes widened in a sudden understanding of who Krew was referring too; then he nodded silently and turned to face Sig, who had an eager gleam to his eye.

* * *

Alright, I hope this one was up to par. Treading on experimental ground here, with Jak's unusual form of duel wielding, so let me know what you think of it. As I said above, I'm not sure when I'll be able to update next, but I'll try to get some writing done during this trip, when I'm not hanging out with relatives or frantically trying to accomplish schoolwork that I'm going to be missing. 

Also, for those of you who may be curious, the magnum looks very much like the SOCOM pistol from the Metal Gear games, while its charge shot looks like the plasma pistol's overcharge from the Halo series. I should also note here that while it possess vary degrees of firepower, this pistol will not be some sort of superweapon, its more like a modified version of the blaster, with its charge blast, while powerful, not being anywhere near what Sig's Peace Maker is capable of dishing out.

Let me know how I'm doing if you feel like it, and if you don't, well, I just hope that this has been worht the time that you took to read it.

Thanks, and remember, all days are good, just some better than others.


	5. Hunting

Hunting

Well, I'm back from vacation, and will now be scrambling to make up my schoolwork. I hope you like what I managed to write when I wasn't too busy. Hopefully, its better than I think it is.

Light-Eco-Sage- Glad I could make you laugh, it is always a pleasure to bring humor to others. As for the error, I;m sorry, comma splices are my weak point, as my English teacher constantly reminds me in the form of red ink. With any luck, I didn't make that kind of careless error in this chapter.

Evil Manic- To answer your questions and comments. 1. I'm glad that you liked it, expect to see alot more, and thank you for reminding me about DMC, one of these days I absolutely must play that game. 2. So I am not the only Turok fan around, great. I have some fond memories of that game, mostly of changing the camera to that strange colored vision while running around with the War Blade and Razor Wind, which seeing as how I don't own any AVP games, was the closest thing that I could get to it. 3. All of those powers and then some more, I intend for him to have Channeling powers that could give an Arch-Mage a run for their money when all is said and done. 4. Go back and read over the previous chapter _very_ carefully, and you will find your answer. 5. Oh, Hell yeah!

Lunatic Pandora1- Yeah, I intend to alter the morph-gun just slightly, to better compliment Jak's abilities in this story. Regardless, I am glad that you liked it.

To any and all lawyers who are reading this- I own nothing, therefor you cannot sue me, now stop pestering me!

That done, sit back, relax, and feel free to mock my pathetic attempts at writing here.

* * *

"So you wanna be Wastelanders eh, doughboys? Well then, listen up. Krew wants some new heads to put butts in chairs in this place." Sig gestured over his shoulder to the numerous Metal Heads adorning the wall. "So I'm gonna go out and bag him five nasty Metal Heads."

Jak nodded in silence, and Daxter gulped. Sig saw this, and chuckled good-naturedly.

"Don't wet your fur, chili pepper, 'cause we're rolling with the Peace Maker." He told Dax, thumbing a switch on his rifle. A moment later, it transformed into a massive weapon, almost five feet long, with a replica of a Metal Head skull forming the end of the barrel.

"Whoa! I need to get me one of those! Where'd you find it?" the Ottsel inquired eagerly, practically drooling.

"Don't ask!" Krew shouted from up at the bar.

"We'll split up and meet outside the city by the Pumping Station. From there, I'll track the beasts, and you cover my butt." Sig instructed, before his face became as mask of seriousness. "Listen, rookie, don't leave me dangling in the wind." the Wastelander ordered, sticking his finger in Jak's face to emphasize his point.

Jak smiled grimly, eager to test his new arsenal out on something that would bleed. He holstered the morph-gun at his side, and then snuck out, leaving Sig to find his own route outside the city, and Krew to clutch his payment close like it was a priceless heirloom.

By this time, the sun was starting to crest the warehouses, and more people were out and about. The former Channeler was grateful that he had thought far enough ahead to bring concealing clothes. As entertaining as the idea was, he was not in the mood to get in a firefight with any and all K.G. who might be patrolling this city sector. He and they had already given each other enough grief for one day.

Miraculously, he managed to make it all the way back to where he had parked his speeder without an incident of any kind whatsoever. He looked around, and when no one was looking closely, slunk into the salt water of the harbor.

He moved under the pier, and a few powerful strokes brought him to his zoomer. From there, it was a simple matter to clamber on, kick start the bike, and gently ease out until he was cruising above the waves.

* * *

The miles of the city passed in a blur, and he was at the drainage pipe that led outside the city before he knew it. Parking the bike next to it carefully, he jumped into it, while his enhanced vision instantly adjusted to the light, or lack thereof.

"Man, this place stinks." Daxter remarked, stating the obvious.

Jak remained silent, but he drew his weapons, and proceeded to walk, crouched down, throughout the length of the pipe. It did indeed reek of garbage and worse, but after the treatment that he had been through, the dark elf simply had to push it aside, and it no longer bothered him. After a few minutes, he could see the end of the sewage pipe. As he dropped down, he heard an explosive exhalation next to him. He looked over his shoulder, and beheld Daxter breathing panting heavily. The Ottsel's skin showed a slightly bluish tinge beneath his orange fur. Jak chuckled quietly, earning him a glare from his friend.

Another laugh joined in, deep and reverberating. Both looked in the direction that it was coming from. There, reclining under a tree, still gripping his rifle, was Sig.

"Hello, cherries." he said warmly. "You guys ready to hunt some Metal Heads?"

"I was born ready." Jak said in a grim tone.

"I was born naked and crying." Daxter put in.

For a moment, nothing was said, and Jak and Sig exchanged a glance. Daxter simply smiled in his cheeky way, reveling in the stunned looks on their faces. Finally, Sig just sighed, and put his rifle into a carry position. Jak brought his morph-gun up, and drew and readied Kitetsu in a single fluid motion.

Cautiously, the two made their way forward, Sig staring at the ground every so often, seeking any signs of his quarry.

"What kind of Metal Heads are we hunting?" Jak inquired.

"What kinds are you familiar with?" the burly Wastelander asked.

"Grunts, Drones, those little ankle biting ones that look like scorpions, and I think that's it." Jak answered.

"Well, in this case we're hunting a kind called a Crab Head." Sig told him, his eyes still on the ground.

"That doesn't sound so dangerous." Daxter said with a sigh of relief.

"Oh, no, chili pepper? Then let me tell you about these monsters." Sig responded, smug amusement in his voice. "They stand about ten feet high and they're built like marauder land sharks, while their four legs, which I might add, can double as weapons, allow them incredible mobility." he paused, before continuing. "I also feel the need to mention the fact that they carry a pair of high power blasters and are toting enough armor to make a K.G. commando soil his yellow britches in envy." Sig remarked.

Daxter gulped, and clung to Jak's shoulder a little more strongly than he normally did.

"That's not all of it, fur-ball. They're also very different from the other kinds you fought by another means." The scarred elf continued, as if he was trying his best to scare the living daylights out of the Ottsel, never mind the fact that he had already succeeded.

"How's that?" Jak asked.

"How much do you know about the Metal Heads?"

"Other than what I've seen, not a whole lot."

"Then let me tell you some things about em so you don't come back from this as a blaster fried corpse." Sig responded, his tone grim. "Metal Heads operate in a hierarchical caste system, with different species outranking others. Crab Heads are near the top of the list, and that ain't just cause they're packing enough firepower to frag a whole squad of elves. They're cunning, and I've seen them pull off some downright brilliant battlefield tactics."

"In other words, if they're with a group, take them down first." Jak muttered.

"You pick up fast, cherry. But we've wasted enough time here."

* * *

Several hours had passed, and they had finally managed to locate one of their quarry. Sig motioned for them to get down. He switched his rifle to its Peace Maker mode, and started to charge it up. The two watched in amazement as a massive ball of electrical energy formed at the barrel. After about ten or so seconds, Sig leaned out from behind the rocks they had taken cover behind, and fired.

The lightning ball shot from the barrel, zooming towards its target. The Crab Head never knew what had hit it, and as the shot exploded on its body armor, the bolts of electricity could be seen coursing over it, ravaging its internal systems. Its legs buckled, and it fell from its perch, landing about twelve yards from where they stood. The light in its eyes went out, and its last breath left its body.

"Hehe, now that's what I call blowing someone's mind!" the Wastelander told the duo while he laughed.

Examining the dead Metal Head closely, Jak could see that Sig had not been kidding. The beast was truly a living weapon. Huge, corded muscles could bee seen despite the creature's armor and thick skin, and something that the gunman had neglected to mention caught Daxter's eye as well. In addition to all of its armaments, the Crab Head was also packing a very healthy set of razor sharp teeth that were set in a mouth large enough to swallow him alive.

"Well, the good news is that these bad boys usually travel in packs, so the others should be close by." Sig suddenly mused aloud.

"Then dare I ask what the bad news is?" Daxter whimpered.

Sig merely pointed up. While Jak had been busy covering their tails and trying to make sure that the Metal Heads didn't get a drop on them, several ominous looking clouds had taken the liberty of floating directly over their heads. On cue, a bolt of lighting split the sky, and rain began falling in heavy sheets.

"What did I do this time!" Daxter shouted to the heavens, apparently requesting divine inspiration for all the things that were happening to him.

Jak ignored his friend, instead bringing his IR goggles down over his eyes. He flicked them on, and a few moments later, he could see the heat given off by the environment. The rain was rapidly cooling everything down, so the Metal Heads would now stand out like sore thumbs. Sig switched the vision in his mechanical eye to heat mode as well, and then started off on the trail once more.

Jak followed, keeping one eye scanning about on the terrain, watching for any Metal Heads that decided to make themselves known, and trying to observe Sig at the same time. The Wastelander was searching the cliff face and the Pumping Station machinery, his gaze attempting to locate his large and vicious quarry.

All of a sudden, Sig dropped to one knee and brought up a clenched fist. Jak stopped immediately, weapons in a ready position. As the larger elf powered the Peace Maker up once again the former Channeler beheld their prey. The Crab Head was about fifty feet from the ground; tucked into an alcove created by some of the machines in the area. The blinding rain was actually working to their advantage, enabling the infrared equipped elves to take time aiming at the quarry without the risk of being seen. Once he was satisfied that he had everything in order, Sig released his hold on the trigger. Once again the dazzling orb of lightning crackled through the air, heading unerringly towards its target. The Metal Head heard the blast, and turned just in time to practically swallow the orb as it streaked in.

"Boom baby!" Sig cried out, throwing his arm up in the air as it crashed to the ground.

* * *

Four down, and now for one last Crab Head. Sig was staring around, his heat seeing right eye piercing the curtains of falling water. Jak watched their six o'clock intently; the last thing he wanted to do was drop his guard and get waxed in the home stretch. The former Channeler kept glancing around, and Daxter could tell that Jak was more than a little edgy. His friend couldn't make out anything, but the dark elf's inner creature was edgy, and was warning him that all was not as it seemed. Sig apparently shared his concern, and the burly Wastelander suddenly switched his rifle from Peace Maker to its standard blaster setting.

Then Jak felt it, a subtle vibration in the ground, barely distinguishable from the roar of the rain in his ears. It grew stronger, and he shifted about, trying to find where it was coming from. Almost too late, he figured it out, and sprang away from where he was, his enhanced physical abilities causing him to land almost ten yards from where he had been. The Eco enhanced elf had spun around in mid-jump, which gave him a clear view of what happened next.

First one Crab Head, and then another, burst from the ground, their pulse blasters firing at the trio with deadly accuracy. Sig leapt out of the way too, nearly loosing part of one of his ears in the process. The large Metal Heads were soon joined on the surface by several of their lesser brethren, who had also been lying in wait.

Knowing that they were about to die unless they fought back, and also knowing that he would need to be able to communicate with Sig to pull that off, Jak double checked the power reading of his magnum, stuck it above the mechanical device he was behind, and opened fire. He hadn't been planning on hitting anything with it, just making the beasts drop their heads. However, the young elf had a bit of a lucky streak going today, and one Grunt happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Three bolts entered its body, shredding its vital organs and all but ripping it apart in their fury.

The dark elf used this opportunity to dash out from behind his cover, heading for where Sig was. He reached the other boulder, and dove behind it as the two Crab Heads nearly caught him in a merciless cross fire that kicked up dirt and sand all around where he had been moments before.

"Son of a croca-dog, they were waiting for us!" the scarred elf exclaimed.

"Really? I hadn't noticed." Jak growled in excessive sarcasm.

The younger elf then jumped up for a moment, and fired. Twin bursts of fire shot through the ranks of the Metal Heads, and two Drones dropped, holes steaming from various parts of their bodies.

The trio could hear the strange, guttural language of the Metal Heads as the Crab Heads barked out orders to their inferior brethren. Risking a look, the Eco infused elf watched as the beasts scattered, with each Crab Head taking about half of the force, and began to circle them.

"They're going to flank us." he told Sig, while taking a few shots at the leader.

The magnum's burst shots may have been nearly perfect for butchering the lower castes of the Metal Heads, but against these heavily armored behemoths, it was considerably less effective, and Jak was forced to duck as the Crab Head more than returned the favor, making the rock a good eight inches shorter than it had been.

Sig growled and began to charge up his Peace Maker, then he popped up, and fired…or tried to. A furious retaliation by the other Crab Head nearly took his head off, and only a split second reaction saved his life.

"What's wrong?" Daxter inquired, panic laced into his voice.

"Peace Maker's jammed; I need you to buy me some time while I get it back online!" Sig told him, ripping open a compartment in the rifle.

Jak peeked around the rock, where the large Metal Heads were still laying down suppression fire, and their lesser brethren were advancing towards their position. He sighed bitterly, and braced himself for one of the most insane things he had ever had to do in his life. He slammed a fresh clip home in his morph-gun, and then dashed out from behind his cover, heading for the group on his right.

The Crab Head immediately picked up on his movement, and the purple flashes of energy hummed towards him, kicking up sand and small rock shards. A stream of blue bolts sailed back in retaliation. They were on target, but once again did little more than irritate the monster. This strategy was obviously not working, so the dark elf realized that he was going to have to make a few minor adjustments if he wished to end this fight with the same amount of blood in his body that he had to begin with.

The Crab Head took aim again, both blasters on full automatic, as if it were attempting to fill the sky with Eco and let the law of averages do the rest of the work.

Indeed, the barrage might very well have been the end of the elf had it not been for one thing: Kitetsu. Yet again, Jak felt some instinctive memory rush through him, and he weaved the dark blade back and forth. Much to his amazement, the bolts were deflected by the katana.

Quickly realizing the advantage this gave him, the former Channeler dashed towards his primary assailant, deflecting shots while at the same time, remembering what Sig had told him. He quickly flipped the switch on his magnum, putting it into charge mode. Within a couple of seconds, the pistol was vibrating, and he released his hold on the trigger.

The ball of Eco leapt from the gun, and smashed into the Crab Head. The creature screamed in pain, but kept up its assault. Jak fired again, and still it stood. Finally, a third charged up blast from the pistol went straight into the Metal Head's face, killing it. He felt a vibration coming from the weapon, and knew that its power supply had been exhausted. He ejected the clip, and slammed the butt of the weapon down over a fresh one that was hanging in his belt. The automatic locking system built into the handle of the magnum did the rest, and blue fire was soon raking into the Metal Head ranks as panic set into the Grunts and Drones that made up the remainder of this group. The dark elf was quick to capitalize on this chaos, his blade flashing and his gun barking harshly while they offered virtually no resistance.

However, there was still the other group to contend with, and they were not about to lay down and be slaughtered. Jak hadn't even finished with the first squadron when the remaining Crab Head turned its blasters towards him.

Once more, Kitetsu whirled about as the dark elf moved with speed and agility that was beyond natural. Jak closed the distance between him and his foes rapidly, his morph-gun sending bursts into the lesser ranks, cutting them down.

Meanwhile, Sig seemed to finally be making some headway with his on the fly repair job. The Wastelander growled, and managed to fix whatever had malfunctioned in his gun. With a grunt, he closed the access panel, and started charging the weapon back up. However, when he stuck his head up, he found himself unable to fire, as Jak was too close to risk a shot.

Instead, the burly elf was forced to sit back and watch with Daxter as the former Channeler performed yet another superhuman leap, putting him into melee combat range.

To say that the Crab head was surprised when Jak suddenly seemed to appear in front of it, his dark katana already being swung at it, would have been an understatement of no small caliber. It then felt pain as it had never experienced before, and realized that it now had only three legs. And while it was advertising its agony to all in hearing range, Jak took the opportunity to send a few more of the creatures straight to whatever afterlife it was they hoped to attain. However it wasn't long before their commander re-entered the equation.

The Crab Head had apparently been able to will away the pain from its wounds, and began to open fire on him again, not caring a bit if it hit one of its fellows, its cruel mind thinking only to slay the one that had hurt it. However, in doing so it made a critical mistake: it allowed itself to become blinded by its rage.

It had not realized that it was now near the wall of one of the many cliffs in the area. It only remembered when Jak vaulted into the air, flipping over and actually using his enhanced physical abilities to push off the rocks, and shoot straight towards the beast. The Crab Heads hasty counter fire was ineffective, and it had just enough time to roar in denial, before Kitetsu cut through its neck armor, and severed its head.

By now, most of the creatures were in retreat. However, they did not get far before a familiar ball of lightning streaked in, and utterly decimated them. A second shot followed, finishing off any who were unlucky enough to have survived the first.

"Boom! Home team six, Metal Heads nothing!" Sig cried in elation, smiling wildly at the dark elf as he walked back over, his clothes wet with rain and Metal Head blood.

Jak nodded, then looked to the Wastelander's feet, where Daxter stood, his pupils dilated and his breathing rapid. Without warning, the Ottsel's eyes suddenly rolled back into his head, and Daxter collapsed in a dead faint.

"Guess ole chili pepper's had enough excitement for one day, eh?" Sig said with a chuckle. "You did good, rookie. Right now though, I'm gonna collect these trophies and clean my gun. You head on back to town."

Jak nodded, and picked Daxter up off the ground. His thoughts churning and his mind trying to digest what he had seen today, the young elf started back towards the drain pipe that led into the city.

So he was now officially working for Krew, a man, and he used the term quite liberally, that by all appearances was an organized crime boss. He had not missed the distaste that Torn had spoken with when he referred to Krew as a supplier, but in the end, they were still working together. It seemed that desperation truly made allies of the strangest people.

* * *

A few minutes after Jak was out of sight, Sig looked around from his work. Once the massive warrior was certain that he was alone, he pulled out a comm. unit. He punched in the frequency he needed and brought it up to his ear.

"Report." came a harsh voice over the other end of the line.

"Nothing new, I'm still looking for your boy, ole buddy." Sig responded.

A swear was heard, followed by a bitter sigh.

"However, something odd did happen today." he continued, his voice quiet.

"What?"

"Let's just say that a bit of your past's been dug up."

* * *

Well, there it is, in all its sub-par glory. I'll try to have another chapter posted soon, but I'm not sure if I'll be able to, as the tapes I had someone take of my chemistry and calculus classes while I was gone have suffered from Murphy's Law and have no audio, so I have a very bad feeling that I could very well be screwed.

Regardless of my problems, let me know what you thought of this sotry so far, be it in the form of a comment, a constructive critique or idea, or even an outright flame.

Thanks, and have a great day.


	6. Of Mad Scientists and Talking Statues

Hello, people. School's been a pain of late, but I've still managed to get some writing done, though hopefully weekend sleep deprivation won't come back to haunt me as far as quality is concerned.

Lunatic Pandora1- I'm sorry about the lack of inner demons, he doesn't make much of an appearence in this one, either. But he will be making a triumphant, and very much bloody comeback in the next chapter, so please don't hurt me. Plus, in about a half dozen or so chapters, he will become a far larger part of the story. Light-Eco-Sage can tell you more, as she's read what's going to happen.

Something Stupid- Thanks for your encouragement, it really helps motivate me to take the time to make sure this is as good as I can make it, and can be a very good cure for writer's block I've discovered. To answer your question, there will be different gun mods, as Jak won't be the only one wielding a morph-gun. One mod that will also be making an appearance soon was graciously provided by Evil Manic, you can read his review for more information.

Thanks for letting me know what you think. (bows politely)

Now, to any and all people looking for a frivolous lawsuit, I own, nothing, so bugger off!

Now, to the next chapter, may it not be a waste of your time.

* * *

Of "Mad" Scientists and Talking Statues

The rain refused to relent, and Jak had found it dangerous to try and drive through the city with the gale pounding it, not to mention how much Daxter was complaining about how his fur was getting all wet. For a brief moment, he felt a bit of concern for Sig, but common sense told him that the Wastelander would be just fine. In fact, from the way the large elf had acted, it seemed as if this sort of thing was routine for him.

Such were his thoughts as he sailed over the elevated houses of the flooded city area, he decided to put down and wait the storm out. One building stood out, larger than the houses. Setting his zoomer next to the boardwalk, Jak hopped off, and walked inside, throwing his soaked trench coat to the floor as he entered.

The interior of the structure was unlike anything he had ever before seen. Candles covered the place, and a large statue dominated the shrine. The dark elf's gaze was drawn to the statue, almost as it was with his blade; he seemed to realize that there was more to that to it than what seemed normal, or natural.

"Interesting décor." Daxter muttered as he shook himself off, oblivious to Jak's state.

_Greetings to you, young warrior._

Daxter yelped, and Jak's weapons were out in an instant, wondering whose voice it was that seemed to echo inside his head.

_You need not fear me, young one, I mean you no harm. _

The former Channeler suddenly realized just how correct his assumption had been, this bizarre carving was speaking into his mind. Despite the assurances of the statue, Jak felt no small amount of apprehension towards it.

If the Eco infused elf had been feeling edgy about the statue, then the beast within him had been on the verge of panic. Driven by instincts as it was, it perceived something it did not understand as a threat, and through its primitive logic, the only way to deal with a threat was to eliminate it.

Unable to hold it back, Jak realized that he was about to transform once more. But, even as his vision darkened, and a nervous gulp from his diminutive companion echoed through the room, a strange feeling of peace washed over him. At first, the creature tried to resist, and fought back viciously. However, the feeling persisted, and even it was subdued by the power of this strange object.

"What…are…you?" Jak managed to gasp out.

_Many names have I had, most simply refer to me as the Oracle. As for you, I can sense turmoil within you, young one, as well as a dark rage that burns within your soul. This hatred will drive you to madness if you do not find a way to control it._

"And how do I do that?" Jak ventured, retrieving his weapons from where he had dropped them when the beast had attempted to manifest itself.

_As all have hatred within them, so do they possess love. As all have sorrow, so do they have joy. Balance is what you must find, young one. You must find it, if you wish to save yourself. _

"And how do I do I do that, Oracle?" he growled, still a bit weary of something that could apparently read his soul like an open book.

_You will know when you realize the truth._

"What truth?" the dark elf inquired, cocking his head slightly to one side.

_That driven as you are now, you cannot win._

With those cryptic words, the Oracle fell silent, leaving Jak and Daxter perplexed, and more than a little anxious about the future.

When sufficient time had passed for the storm to end, the two went back outside and headed for home. Upon arriving, Jak collapsed on his bunk, not even bothering to report in with Torn. He was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

* * *

A rough shaking brought Jak up to full consciousness, relieving him of the nightmare he had been experiencing. He looked over and saw Torn standing next to his bunk, a frown on his face, as usual. He motioned for them to follow him silently to the command area. Jak looked over at the clock, and wondered what his commander could have wanted at such an ungodly hour. Grumbling, he woke Daxter up, careful not to draw the wrath of his sleepy friend, and started towards the command area.

Rubbing the last of the sleep from his eyes, he stepped inside. Torn had his back to him, staring at the wall.

"Before I say anything, one of Krew's men dropped this off for you, said it's payment for helping to boost his business." Torn said, gesturing to a red colored chip on his desk. Jak stared at it, unsure of what the thing was.

"It's a mod for that peashooter you're carrying. Check the back of the gun, there should be a slot for it." Torn told him with the air of teaching a child how to count to ten on their fingers.

Jak peered intently at the back of the morph-gun. Close examination revealed that there were several minute openings in the rear area of the gun, one on the very back, with two more on each side, each with a tiny button above it. The former Channeler slid the chip into the one of the right side, and the gun hummed for a few moments, before falling silent. Curiosity getting the better of him, Jak pressed the button.

There was a high pitched whine, and the gun started to change. It became larger, but thankfully not any heavier. Clicking resounded from within as circuitry rearranged itself, and about half a second later, Jak held a new firearm. It was about two and a half feet long, with a wide barrel, and a pump on the end that looked like a loading mechanism.

"A scatter gun." Torn said, and then went on to explain what it was. "It fires a high powered shockwave of energy. It's not the fastest firing weapon, nor is it something that you would want to use in a long range gun fight, but it will enable you to engage multiple targets in close range combat."

"Please tell me you did not rouse me from what little shut-eye I manage to get because of this." Jak growled.

"One of the Baron's strip mining operations has come under attack from Metal Heads." the commander informed him, his back still turned to the duo.

"That not _our_ problem." Jak said, irritation present in his voice at being woken up over something like this.

"It is when the foreman's one of the best informants in the Underground!" Torn snarled, whirling on him. "His name's Vin, and he's just valuable enough to save!" Torn paused, taking a breath and attempting to calm himself before continuing. "I want you to lead a group out to the area via one of the warp gates at the power plant. The workers there are sympathetic to our cause so your squad shouldn't have any trouble getting inside. Once you've done that, get in there, kill any non-elven thing that moves, find Vin, save his pathetic hide, and report back."

"Hey, Tattooed Wonder, how come _we_ get all the crappy missions?" Daxter asked with indignation.

"Because. I. Don't. Like. You." Torn growled, jabbing his finger into Daxter's small chest.

"Fair enough." Daxter replied in a sheepish manner.

"I play your little search and rescue game, under one condition." the former Channeler said, in tone icy.

"And what would that be?" the young commander asked, his voice holding a small amount of disbelief at the fact that Jak was trying to bargain with his orders.

"I work alone." the dark elf said, his tone even colder than before, if that was possible.

"That's suicide! And we need Vin…" Torn started.

"First, you have no idea how many times I've been told that." Jak said, cutting him off. "And secondly, your Underground fighters are weak links in _my _combat chain, it'd be like babysitting on a battlefield, I'd have to protect them, not rely upon them."

The dark elf then whirled, and quickly headed for the resistance's armory before Torn could say anything else. Upon arriving, he searched until he found the ammo that he was looking for, and grabbed two double handfuls.

Locked and loaded, the young elf headed for the garage, stopping long enough to grab his coat. Once there, he grabbed a speeder bike, waited for clearance, and headed out on his way.

* * *

The trip to the power plant was uneventful, not surprising considering the inhuman hour at which the dark elf and his Ottsel companion had been awaken. Once he arrived, he drove up to the gate. An agitated civilian watchman got one look at his outfit, and waved him through. He parked his zoomer in the shadows of the building, and walked through the front door.

Another haggard looking civilian walked up to him, relief shown clearly on his features.

"Thank the Precursors you're here!" the worker exclaimed, so ecstatic about some help that he didn't care if it was only one elf.

"What's going on?" Jak asked, well aware of the fact that knowledge was one of the deadliest weapons he could have in his arsenal.

"From what we gather, the mining operation came under attack approximately three hours ago." the elf said as he walked briskly to a monitoring room. "They sent a distress signal almost immediately, but Baron Praxis seems to have left them to fend for themselves." he said, before adding in a bitter tone. "They continued to call for help, regardless, but they just got ignored, until we lost contact about an hour or so ago."

The worker looked back at the former Channeler, his eyes silently pleading with him. "There are men out there that we know, men with families, please, you have to help them."

"I'll see what I can do, but no promises on bringing everyone back alive." Jak responded, removing his coat and pulling out his weapons.

"I can bring this warp portal online for a few moments to get you there. Once you've found the survivors, activate this," he gave Jak something that looked like a hand held com unit, "and then we'll power it back up."

Jak nodded mutely, and walked up to the now active warp portal. He and Daxter jumped inside, bracing themselves for the vertigo that accompanied this form of travel.

* * *

"Jeez, this place looks worse than that prison I sprang you out of."

Jak wasn't sure whether Daxter was referring to the pillaged landscape, ripped away by Baron Praxis' Eco mining operations, or the carnage that the Metal Heads had unleashed. There were bodies everywhere, both miners, and the occasional Krimzon Guard. In some cases, they were unable to tell what the person had been, so mangled was the corpse.

"Sure hope that one of these poor wage slaves ain't Vin." the Ottsel mused aloud, and Jak silently agreed with him.

They made their way amongst the wasteland, constantly on the lookout for anything living, be it elf or Metal Head. Here and there, the smoke from burning machines filled the air, and eventually forced Jak to pull his the cowl of his bandana up to filter some of it out. Daxter however, was not so fortunate, and began to cough so loudly that the Eco infused elf thought it a wonder every Metal Head within ten miles hadn't heard them.

No sooner did he finish thinking that than he heard it. A Grunt charged at them, thinking to use the smoke as cover. However, what it got was the business end of a very, very sharp blade. It roared in agony as Jak's swing severed its right arm. The cry was cut short an instant later as the katana cut through the smoke once again, relieving the monster of its head.

However, its death wail alerted its brethren, who surged towards this elf who dared to strike one of their own down. Jak used his ears once again, and howls split the air as bursts of Eco energy burned through the monsters. Those than managed to penetrate the screen of haze met with the deadly dance of Kitetsu. Limbs went flying, black blood drenched the ground, and furious cries filled the canyon.

Still they came, trying to use attrition to wear him down. The magnum ran empty, forcing him to reload. One came at him from the right side, and gurgled as Kitetsu cleaved it in half. At the same time, one of its comrades charged him from the front, apparently thinking it would have the glory of the kill, seeing as how the elf's hands were both occupied with something else at the moment. However, it failed to realize just how much damage the dark elf was capable of inflicting when one combined his unnatural strength with steel-toed combat boots, particularly when it involved contact with one's head. As it staggered backwards, a telltale click indicated that the magnum had a full clip once more, and a burst tore through its heart an instant later.

A sudden pain caused Jak to cry out, and he looked down. One of the little scorpions had managed to penetrate his guard, and had demanded his attention by jabbing its razored tail into his leg. Jak humored it, reversing his grip on his katana so it was held like a dagger, and driving in straight into the monster's brain. As it curled up and twitched out its last moments of life, he returned his attention to its larger cousins.

Only to find that there were none left. Around him were bodies of the creatures, some blasted by concentrated Eco, others lying in pieces, evidence of his uncanny blade skills. Willing the pain in his left ankle away, knowing he wouldn't feel it for much longer anyway, he walked onwards, Daxter muttering under his breath about the trouble they were going through to save one lousy informant.

After a seeming eternity, they crossed the open strip mines and the pools of Dark Eco. Merely looking at those things had sent unpleasant memories stirring through the minds of both friends, and it was all Jak could do to repress a shudder. Though, deep down, he knew that that substance was now an irrevocable part of him.

It was all so deliciously ironic. He had spent so much time in Sandover battling against Gol and Maia, the fallen Sages, and their plans. They had wielded the darkness, had used it to bring about countless tragedies. And now, less than three years later, he had been fused with the very same thing he had so long fought against.

What was no less ironic was the other change that had come over him, the emotional one. Before, he had been cheerful, optimistic, and full of a passionate energy and zeal for life in general. Now, that was gone. He had been a greater success than the Baron realized, and not just in the fact that he now had a dark side to rival Dr. Jekyll. He was cold now, driven by fury and hatred, with no thoughts for what should befall those around him should he die, no thoughts for self-preservation in the long run. He was a near perfect soldier now. His goal was to destroy Praxis and Errol, even if he had to die to do it.

Keira had once called him an angel. Now, he was a Fallen Angel, a creature that had plummeted away from the light, into a darkness from which he could not be redeemed.

"I'm really beginning to think ole Vinnie's dead, Jak. Maybe we should head back before more Metal Heads show up?" Daxter begged, ripping him back to reality.

"The more the merrier, I'm just getting warmed up." Jak said in a tone that left zero room for arguing. The fuzzy rodent perched on his shoulder merely groaned.

Several heated exchanges and a few expletives later, the duo finally approached the main operations facility. Here, the dark elf noted, the body count grew significantly. Apparently, the Krimzon Guards that had been stationed around in this area had attempted to erect some sort of defensible barricade, and it looked as if it had worked for a time. For the first time since arriving to this war zone, Jak could see a large difference between the number of elven dead and the corpses of Metal Heads. However, as in all cases, the Metal Heads had one thing going for them: attrition. Their enormous numbers almost always ensured that they won in the end. That was the reason Torn had said they had lasted as long as they had. Assault after assault had been hurled at their nest, only to be beaten back by overwhelming force.

The corridors became significantly narrower at this point, so Jak decided now would be a good time to test out his new weapon. He sheathed the dark katana, and switched the morph-gun to scatter mode. Once he had managed to attach the top loading power pack, he brought the gun up to shoulder level, and braced it.

Slowly, and ever so cautiously, the two made their way down the hallways and passages of the mining operations building, Jak expecting a Metal Head to leap out at him and Daxter every second of the way.

Eventually, one of the corridors ended, and the former Channeler carefully eased a double door open, and then rolled inside the room, expecting a counterattack. When none came, he stood back up, his finger resting against the trigger. Staring at his surroundings, Jak reached the conclusion that this must have been a mess hall of sorts. Once more, a primitive barricade of overturned tables and vending machines had been used in an attempt to hold the Metal Heads at bay. Yet again, it had been nothing more than a stalling measure. Corpses, some charred, others ripped to pieces, littered the area, and the floor was slick with red and black blood.

Stepping carefully around the bodies, the dark elf made his way to another set of doors that probably led deeper into the compound. What he failed to see, however, was one of the Metal Head corpses rise, and start to follow him. This one was smarter than most of its brethren and it knew what the weapon in the elf's hands was capable of.

It was the creature within that saved him from it. It was itself a predator, and was apparently familiar with that particular trick. Jak felt its warning, and tensed. Sure enough, there was a faint "clack" as some of the Metal Head's claws came into contact with the steel floor.

As the Metal Head leapt into the air, Jak spun with inhuman speed. A loud boom echoed through out the room, and the Grunt fell back, blown in half at its waist, staining the metal floor with more dark fluid.

Jak found himself on the ground as well. He had not anticipated the kick of the scatter gun's recoil, and it had sent him sprawling. As he rubbed the back of his head gingerly, Daxter crawled out from underneath him, an indignant look upon his furry visage.

"Man, that thing kicks harder than an angry yakow." the Ottsel muttered.

"No kidding." his larger compatriot growled.

Once he was back on his feet, and holding his scatter gun in a tighter grip than before, Jak resumed his trek through the mining facility. However, the next room held a few nasty surprises. The sound of gunfire had attracted more monsters, and they now swarmed towards the two resistance fighters with the intent of tearing them apart.

Once, twice, three times the scatter gun fired, and the red shockwave that came forth from the barrel mowed down the advancing hoard. Jak backpedaled furiously, a snarl on his face. His power pack was emptied, and he frantically loaded another one. He cocked the gun just as one of the Grunts leaped at him. The resounding blast caught it in the face, and a headless corpse hit the ground, just inches from where he stood.

Their numbers seemingly limitless, the Metal Heads surged from the very shadows of the mining facility, driving the elf back into the cafeteria. Yet again, Jak mentally wondered why he had been cursed. It was times such as these, when he missed his old powers more than most could possibly imagine. True, this morph-gun was a good weapon, powerful in its own right, but compared with the strength of a Channeler's abilities, it was little more than a toy.

Returning his attention to slightly more pressing matters, Jak realized that he was nearly out of power from his current power pack. The dark elf fired twice more, before tearing the pack away and replacing it. Just as rapidly, he gunned another Drone down.

However, it was then that something he had not expected practically waltzed through the door. A Crab Head. It took one look at the Underground warrior before roaring in its guttural tongue. Daxter leapt from his shoulder as the twin blasters came up, but Jak, his attention still divided between attempting to shoot the Grunts hurling themselves at him and their commander, did not move fast enough.

There was a high pitched whine, followed by a discharge. The dark elf felt something punch him in the chest with the force of a sledgehammer, and he was knocked backwards, tripping as the power of the shot pushed him into an overturned table and caused him to land in a heap next to his friend. Daxter shrieked when he realized what had happened, and the Crab Head cried out in exultation, before coming over to finish the elf off.

However, imagine its surprise when it was greeted by a scatter gun blast at point blank range. It staggered backwards as Jak leapt back to his feet, and shot it again. Twice more, the scatter gun boomed, before the Crab Head fell dead. Deprived of their leader, the lesser Metal Heads, the few left as it was, quickly gave themselves over to panic, and were disposed of with relative ease.

Daxter's elation at seeing that Jak was okay quickly faded when he saw Jak's chest. It had been a direct hit, but even that wasn't what scared the Ottsel. Dripping from the large wound, was not the reddish color of blood that Daxter had expected. What he saw instead was one of the thing's Jak hated most about himself. Also, for the small part of his old self that was still left, it was just one of several things that had happened to him in the Baron's prison that he'd hoped Daxter, Keira or Samos would never have to see.

Daxter watched, horrorstruck, as Dark Eco flowed from the charred flesh of his friend's chest. As if to drive the surrealism of the moment home even further, the orange rodent watched as the wound got smaller, healing itself impossibly fast. Within ten seconds, Daxter calculated, one would have never even been able to tell that Jak had just sustained what should have been a fatal gunshot wound, provided of course, that one ignored the volleyball sized hole in his tunic.

"Jak?" the Ottsel breathed, finally managing to find his voice. It was one thing to see that creature emerge and wreak havoc on anyone stupid enough to attack it, but to see Jak like this…it really drove it home that something had been done to irrevocably change his friend.

"Yeah, Dax?" His partner answered as he changed his gun back to its magnum mode, while the dark elf mentally braced himself for the inevitable question.

"Just what did they do to you in that place?"

Daxter's answer came in the form of a glare. For a fleeting instant, Daxter thought he saw the old Jak, the boy that had been his best friend, in those pain filled eyes, before the warrior quickly turned them back into the glaciers they had become.

Silence filled the air as the former Channeler turned and headed deeper into the mining compound.

* * *

The rest of the mission had been uneventful. The duo stood before a door that apparently led to the command center of this little operation. Checking around one more time to make sure that the way was clear, and no more of the creatures lay in ambush, Jak triggered the switch for the door. It opened, and a hail of Eco met the two. Diving out of the way in opposite directions, Jak and Daxter were barely able to dodge them. From inside, shouts could be heard, and from those and the amount of gunfire being thrown at them, Jak concluded that there were probably about seven men inside, possibly eight.

"Hold your fire!" the dark elf shouted.

The men inside ignored him, or more than likely hadn't been able to hear him above the noise they were making.

"Do something, Jak! These guys are crazy!" Daxter screamed.

"Are anyone of you guys Vin by chance?" Jak called out, trying desperately to be heard above the ruckus. Finally, he lost patience. "Look, if we were here to kill you, none of you guys would be shooting right now!"

Whether they heard him inside, or their terror maddened brains had finally figured out that they were shooting at nothing, Jak would never know, but the fire ceased abruptly. Jak took a chance, and peeked around the corner. Inside were eight men, most sporting blaster rifles that had probably been looted off dead guards, and another, far older, that had a pistol.

"Whoa…friendlies…thank the Precursors…so…so where's the rest of the army?" the oldest one asked as Jak and Daxter stepped inside the command office.

"Hehe, we're it." Daxter answered.

"Wha…just you two? What do they think I'm worth?" the man, apparently Vin, asked himself.

"I'm beginning to wonder that myself." Jak muttered. "Look, you guys can stay here and be metal meat if you want, but Daxter and I are bugging out before more of those monsters come back."

The workers needed no further encouragement. They promptly picked up their weapons, and began to follow after the Underground fighter. The group moved as fast as they could, almost to the point where their safety was compromised. Thankfully, their escort's enhanced senses were constantly on the alert.

It was a good thing, as some of the wretched beasts were still around, a group of about twenty of so Grunts. Ordering Daxter and the miners to the rear, he charged in. His rage and self loathing still simmered in his tainted blood, demanding an outlet, and here was a rather convenient one. Needless to say, the civilians were quite astounded as they watched the dark elf hack and blast his way through the Metal Heads.

"Maybe you're worth a little more than you thought." one elf muttered towards the foreman, earning him a hesitant nod.

With a battle cry that nearly rivaled his inner demon's in power, Jak dispatched the last of them, emptying five bursts into one that had been trying to make a run for it, while simultaneously bisecting another that had been leaping at him.

Wordlessly, he looked back to the workers, motioning for them to follow him.

The rest of the area remained deviod of the monsters, but the strip mine was still a warzone, or a slaughterhouse, depending on how one looked at it. Jak simply couldn't comprehend why the Baron had allowed this to happen, it was tactically unsound. Not only had hundreds of lives been lost, but Haven City had now been at the very least temporarily deprived of one of its major power sources. Then, something occurred that drove the tradegy home on a more personal level. One of the men broke away from the group, and ran over to one of the more intact corpses.

"What the hell are you doing!" Jak shouted to the miner.

The worker ignored him, and quickly rolled the body over. The Underground fighter couldn't see who the person was, but he didn't need to. The worker collapsed to his knees and began to sob uncontrollably. The elf's first impulse was to walk over to the man, and try to bodily carry him back to the warp portal. However, Vin interfered.

"You two, go over there, give him a hand." the aging technician ordered, pointing to random members within the group. As Jak made to override the command, Vin stared at him. "I don't know about you, but I wouldn't want my corpse to be left as something for those beasts to rip apart. I don't know who he is, but we aren't leaving him."

Jak may not have been able to see the engineer's eyes, but he knew that the informant was giving him a look that was something between a plead and a glare. Then, the strangest thing happened. The dark elf's grimace faltered a bit, and instead was replaced by a look of somber understanding. He relented, and allowed for the body to be carried by the other workers.

Finally, once they were in visual range of the warp gate, Jak pulled out the transmitter that had been given to him, and activated it. Once that had been done, he had the workers wait next to the warp gate while he stood on guard, wondering if there were any Metal Heads out there waiting for this opportunity.

Fortunately, if there were any still around, they kept their distance. A hum indicated that the gate had been activated, and the two survivors carrying the slain man went through first, followed by the others, Vin, and then Jak and his fuzzy friend.

* * *

As previously stated, I'm not sure how good this chapter was quality wise. Also, I'm not sure how well the whole "enhanced healing factor" thing is going to go over with you guys, as well as Jak now bleeding Dark Eco. Still, I suppose that if I just commited a big no-no, you people will hopefully let me know. 

Hope this came across as okay, and wasn't a waste of your time, please let me know what you think of the story, and remember all days are good, just some better than others.


	7. By Demons Be Driven

Hello again folks. Normally, it would take me a little longer for an update, especially when the chapters 6000 or so words. However, I got a bit of inspiration, and thigns flowed a little more smoothly than they normally do. I would also like to say that this chapter is dedicated to Lunatic Pandora1, for the patience that he has shown waiting for our hero's inner demon to make his return, with special thanks going to Evil Manic for a morph-gun mod that will make its first appearance in this chapter.

Now, shout outs.

Light Eco Sage- I'm glad you liked it. I was attempting to make that part a little more realistic than it was in the game. Let's face it, even as old and scrawny as he is, I think it would be within Vin's abilities to open his little command room door, run like hell for all of five feet, and dive through the warp portal to safety. Granted, there were Metal Heads all over the place, but I think that would have just served as a healthy motivation for him to move it.

Something Stupid- Well, the reason I gave him the ability to heal like that was because the way I see it, Baron Praxis was attempting to create a small army of super soldiers. Now, I am not a military genius by any standards, but if I were in Praxis' position, I think that one of the greatest advantages troops could have would be the ability to heal on the battlefield. But I might be wrong. At any rate, thanks for the input, and I am glad that you enjoyed the Dark Eco bleeding at least. (bows politely).

Lunatic Pandora1- I honestly don't know if Jak will actually be absorbing a lot of Dark Eco in the story, for reasons that will be explained later. However, I can tell you that there is something that will be doing that, and Jak will be using it.

TUG- I feel honored that you have taken the time to leave me such a lengthy review when you stated yourself that you rarely read this kind of work. It is for that reason, that I feel that I must warn you that D.J. will eventually gain a persona all his own. However, I can sympathize with you to some degree. It is not so much that people always put him as a seperate individual that always gets on my nerves, but that he is always the same thing, no offense meant to any other authors out there. Every story I have ever read about him, with one or two notable exceptions, always portray him as a creature that is driven by hatred and a slave to bloodlust. Despite his fearsome appearance, I honestly don't think that he would be that way. In this story, I've decided that he would start out as something that is like an animal, driven by his insticts, but he'll eventually learn and evolve into something more, something sentient and intelligent. Sorry, I'm rambling again. As for what else you mentioned, I will tell you that Jak will eventually have to confront and come to terms with his own hatred, and have to try and balance himself spiritually and emotionally, so hopefully that will make it worth your while. If it doesn't and you decide to stop reading this, then I am sorry that I have wasted you time. (bows).

Legal mumbo jumbo- I own absolutly nothing of this franchise, if I did, there is a high probablility this stuff would have been in the trilogy.

* * *

&

* * *

By Demons Be Driven

Daxter was cowering.

That in itself was nothing new, as the Ottsel did it so often as to practically have it down to an art form. However, this time, it was actually Jak he was cowering from, or at least, cowering from what he feared Jak was about to do.

Neither of their days had been very good. Ever since he had bailed Vin and company out back at the strip mine three weeks ago, Lady Luck seemed to have said her goodbyes to the duo. From high stress guerilla attacks, to blockade running, to sabotage missions, Torn seemed to have come to think of Jak as an army of one. Not helping this was the fact that winter was encroaching rabidly upon Haven, and having to sit on a cliff top, for hours on end, freezing his rear end off waiting for a supply truck to hijack was certainly not helping the dark elf's disposition.

But today, well, technically yesterday, had been just one of those days. It had all started when Krew had "asked" for his newest employee to come over for a "business proposal", and things had pretty much gone downhill from there.

* * *

The automatic doors slid open with a hiss as the eco infused elf stepped inside the Hip Hog. Almost before he could react, the hover unit had descended upon them, and Jak's inner creature tried to fathom how something so fat was able to move, let alone fly. The Goodyear blimp of a man greeted the dark elf with a smile on his hideous face.

"Ahhh, Jak, a timely arrival." Krew said in his usual, semi-sinister tone.

"You said you had a job for us," Jak said, wanting to get this over with as quickly as he possibly could.

"As a matter of fact, I do." the bar owner said, smiling even wider. "You see, Jak, racing is the biggest sport in this city, it let's the people forget about their many troubles and personal problems, brings Haven together, and all that other good stuff. It's also a major generator of profits as far as gambling is concerned." He said, rubbing his hands together greedily. "As of now, Commander Errol is the undisputed Grand Champion."

Krew stopped abruptly when he looked back at Jak. The young man's every feature was twisted in hatred, and his eyes looked like twin glaciers. So there was something between Praxis' right hand elf and this Underground warrior, so much the better.

"It is a dangerous sport, and accidents, even death, can be quite common. The reason that I called you here today, is because of one of these accidents. You recall that I told you of the woman who supplied us…your freedom movement, with all of those morph-guns?" Krew asked.

"Yeah, what about her." the former Channeler inquired.

"She runs a racing team on the side, to keep up the front of a legitimate business, and she's quite a mechanic as well. Unfortunately, she's hit a bit of bad luck of late. You see, her driver had a bit of a mishap on the track." he glanced back at the Underground fighter for a second, and realized the intense glare that Jak was giving him. "You can stop looking at me like that, I had nothing to do with it.

"Anyways, I would like to send her my condolences in the form of a suitable replacement. And, after what you did to get my payment to me, plus your apparently "vampiric" reflexes, as Sig put it, my first choice was you, quite naturally."

"So, you basically want me to go over there and "convince" her that another partnership with you would be in her best interests." Jak inquired with a frown.

"No, Jak, you see, the racers make a significant amount of money on their own and, well…look at your contract," he said, handing Jak several pieces of paper.

Daxter quickly snatched them from his taller compatriot, and looked over them.

"We the racers hereby agree to give Krew all proceedings earned from race winnings, sponsorship dealings, mall appearances, use of likeness rights, broadcast royalties, syndication residuals, talk show appearances, clothing lines, fast food tie-ins, books dealings including but not limited too: novella, comic, artistic impressions, neon signs, and bathroom graffiti designs…" the ottsel inhaled deeply, flipping a page. "Toy deals, shoe lines, mood rings, game rights…_game rights_," Daxter said, disbelievingly, before continuing, "vitamin endorsements, city kickbacks, and of course, all death and dismemberment accident insurance claims." the Ottsel finished, breathing deeply.

"We can work out the details later if you would like." Krew said with a smug grin on his piggish face.

Jak just shook his head, grabbed the contract, and headed back outside.

* * *

Next to the Fortress and the Palace itself, the Haven City Stadium was easily the largest structure within in the metropolis. It was starkly different from the rest of the polluted and run down city that he'd seen for the most part. Statues, carved with such masterful care, and the carefully tended gardens located around the entrance walkways made it seem as if this was some sort of Precursor ruin that nature had not yet claimed. Daxter was also impressed, though the flowers had made him sneeze.

People milled about, talking about the latest news, gossip, or in some cases, just talking about the races. Over to his left, he could see a group of people about his age were fooling around, playing with hover boards, and generally just being teenagers. Seeing them caused a minute crack to appear in the ice around which the dark elf had surrounded himself. They seemed so happy, so carefree. It brought back memories of his days in Sandover, when he too, had no worries. Back before Daxter had fallen into that pit of Dark Eco, before his first quest, and before he had crash landed in this war torn abyss.

Sighing bitterly, the former Channeler started making his way towards the garage area. When he arrived it looked just as he had expected it to. Broken zoomers, some civilian, some racer craft, and others that he assumed had been vehicles at one point it time, as they were now mangled blocks of scrap, were all over the place. He stepped inside, his glowing blue eyes searching for the person he was supposed to meet with. Movement from behind a large green curtain off to one side caught his attention, and he cleared his throat to speak.

"Hello? Krew said someone was looking for a race driver?" he asked.

"Ugh! Has that Jabba the Hutt wanna-be been putting words in my mouth again?" a feminine voice cried out in frustration. "Look, I've told him before; I don't want any of his drivers racing for me."

"Well, is there anything that we can do to help?" Jak said, scratching the back of his head, perhaps if he got on good terms with this girl, he'd be able to acquire some new weaponry without having to go through sir lard-a-lot.

"No! I'm, uh, working on a secret, vehicle project, err, yeah." the girl said nervously, while Jak and Daxter exchanged some incredulous glances, glacing back at the curtain when the girl continued. "Look, I don't mean to be rude, but I don't need any more drivers right now, and don't you have someone to, you know, go collect money from or something?"

"You don't like us, do you?" Jak asked.

"You work for that slime-ball, Krew, what's not to like?" she said, sarcasm overly obvious in her voice.

"Look's like you've won quite a few races." Jak said as he looked at the trophies on the wall, trying to steer the conversation away from that loaded topic.

"Yeah, I have." the girl said, and this time a note of pride could be detected.

"You wouldn't happen to know how a guy like me could get into the palace?" he inquired, it was a long shot, but it certainly couldn't hurt at all.

"Why? You want the Baron's autograph or something?" She growled, her tone laced with enough venom to kill.

"Yeah, preferably signed in blood." Jak said; his voice at absolute zero.

"Look, I'll tell you what I know if you promise to go away and leave me alone." the mechanic responded, her tone a little warmer now that he had displayed his intense hatred for the tyrant.

"Deal." he told her.

"All I know is that the palace support towers have some old elevator shafts running up them, if you could find a way to juice em up, you might be able to get in." She told him as Jak heard a blowtorch ignite.

"Thanks." Jak told her, and true to his word, pivoted on his heel, and left the garage.

That had been about the only good thing to happen, learning of a way to strike back against the Baron.

* * *

He had not gone far when his comm. went off. Pulling it out, and placing against his ear, he was rewarded by hearing Krew's voice on the other end.

"Well? How did it go, ey?" the gang boss inquired.

"She doesn't want us racing for her, no ifs, ands, or buts about it." Jak replied calmly.

"Blast!" Krew exclaimed, before calming himself. "Oh, well, you can't win em all, I guess. In any event, I do happen to have another job for you."

"Which would be?" the eco infused elf asked while massaging his forehead.

"The sewers were a fabulous smuggling route for me, that is, until Baron Praxis installed security devices…" Krew began.

"Could you get to the point already? Just tell us who or what we have to shake down, knock out, or blow up." Jak said, stopping Krew before the blob could launch into another wave of melodramatics.

"Very well, I want you to mosey on down there and eliminate all of the security turrets located within. There are four of them, and if I recall correctly, are guidied by motion sensors. Take them out, and I'll give you a sweet weapon upgrade, ey." Krew said, and Jak knew that he was smiling. "I'll download a map of the sewers to your comm. It'll show you where each gun is located."

"Let me guess," Daxter interrupted, "dank, murky water?"

"Aye."

"Reeks worse than your breath at an oyster fest?" Daxter said, voice dripping in sarcasm.

Krew growled over the comm. unit, but the Ottsel continued, undeterred by the mobster's anger.

"Fuller of Metal Heads than your plate at a one pass buffet?"

The growl increased in volume.

"And, of course, weapons more lethal than your ever so tighty whities, on a hot summer day? Here's an idea, lard butt, why don't we float around looking hot and heavy, and you go rotor route the pipes!" Daxter shouted, spit going everywhere.

Jak snatched the comm. unit away from his mutated friend before he succeeded in pushing Krew over the edge. Sighing, he apologized to his "boss", and headed for a back alley, where one could usually find manholes and other such entrances.

* * *

That had been twenty hours of sheer, unadulterated hell. Every one of Daxter's predictions had been right, and on two occasions, Jak had nearly been shot by the damn things, and a triple slash mark in his tunic, rimmed by minute Dark Eco stains, marked where a zealous Grunt had gotten a little friendly. Not helping was the fact that there had been a heavy amount of interference, so his map had done him precious little good.

Once it was finally done and they were smelling "worse than wet hip-hog in a warm barn", as Dax had put it, Krew had come through on his part, giving them a mod that reduced the kick of the scatter-gun, and another that gave Jak's magnum an optional suppressor for when he wanted stealth at the price of stopping power.

Neither of them thought they had been worth it.

By this point in time, the two of them had been awake for somewhere in the neighborhood of twenty seven hours, and both were eagerly looking forward to getting some well deserved shut-eye. Alas, Murphy's Law had chosen that exact moment to rear its head, and shatter yet another idealistic fantasy.

His comm. went off. Groaning in utter disbelief, Jak had brought it up to his ear, and flicked it on.

"Jak here." He muttered.

"Bout time I got an answer from you," Torn's voice growled over the other end, "I've been trying to get a hold of you for the past four hours."

"Dax and I have been doing a bit of a plumbing job for Krew." was Jak's exhausted reply.

"I see. Well I'm glad you're off shift right now, 'cause I've got an assignment that I need your help with." Torn remarked, earning him a death glare that he couldn't see.

"Please tell me this is your sick idea of a joke." Daxter piped up.

"Can it, rodent!" Torn shouted so loudly that Jak was surprised half the street hadn't heard him. "Look," the Underground commander replied in a calmer tone, "just meet me by the big drainage pipe, we'll talk more there."

* * *

Which led them up to where they were now. Daxter gulping fearfully at the look Jak was giving his dreadlocked superior, while the dark elf was entertaining some very realistic fantasies about sicing his inner demon upon Torn, much to the creature's apparent confusion.

"So what's this all about?" Jak asked his commander, barely keeping a snarl out of his voice .

"First things first." Torn replied, throwing a plastic wrapped item Jak's way.

Jak frowned as he recognized what it was- a stim pack. Sighing, he tore the cover off, assembled the hypodermic, and plunged the needle under his skin. Seconds later, his eyes widened slightly as the stimulant propelled him to full alertness.

"Now that you're wide awake, we can get down to business." the tattooed soldier said.

"Yeah, and for the record, I really, _really_, hate needles." Jak retorted.

"In any event," Torn said, ignoring Jak's complaint, "there's a friend of mine in the Guard who's out on patrol at the Pumping Station right now. But, contact was lost with the group a few hours ago, and after what you told me you ran into out there, I'm afraid she might need help."

"She?" Jak responded in disbelief, rage fading with a rare bit of amusement at the thought of Torn having a relationship like that.

"Don't even think about it." Torn growled back, confirming the former Channeler's thoughts. "Let's get moving."

And with those words, Torn drew a morph-gun, before switching it to a mode that Jak could only guess was some sort of assault rifle.

* * *

They cautiously made their way through the area, their eyes scanning in every direction, and Daxter looking behind them every step of the way. Jak held his blade up in one hand, and kept his magnum out in front of him with the other. His senses were alert, his enhanced vision taking everything in while his hearing was attuned to the surroundings. While not as good as getting real sleep, stim-packs did wonders for keeping one awake for an extended period of time, Jak had to admit that.

The sound reached his ears, and he reacted automatically. A pair of mutants leapt from the foliage that surrounded the area. Torn turned to face the threat, however, by the time he had his gun aiming in the right direction, the creatures had already been neutralized.

Jak stood, his katana pointing towards the ground. At his feet were the halves of the mutants, mercilessly cut down by the blade. For a moment, Torn simply stood where he was. The way he was holding the sword, the way he was carrying himself, it triggered a memory in his mind.

For a single instant, the hardned commander found himself in another place, another time, with another elf standing just like that. His hair blew in the wind, and yellow energy crackled in one fist, whilst the other held a katana. At his feet was a trio of decapitated Metal Heads.

"Yoo-hoo, Tattooed Wonder?"

Torn shook his head and the image faded. Daxter was standing right in front of him, gazing up at him with a most peculiar look upon his furry face. The look was mirrored by his elven comrade.

"What?" the commander asked.

"You've been staring at me for the past minute." Jak said.

"Sorry, flashbacks from my time in the Guard." Torn responded.

Suddenly, Torn found himself staring again. Not at his elven compatriot, but at the weapon he was holding. Jak had been carrying that thing around for the Precursors only knew how long, but he had never seen it out of its scabbard. Now, he could only feel disbelief as he gazed upon it. His memories surged forward again, and his mind analyzed every detail. There was no doubt about it, it was the same sword, there was no way there could be two katanas in this world like that.

"Where did you get that blade?" Torn asked.

"I found it the day you sent me out for that little capture the flag performance, right after you left as a matter of fact. Why?" the dark elf answered.

"Nothing important." he told Jak, earning him a cocked eyebrow.

Needless to say, Jak wasn't convinced, and neither was Daxter, however, they both resumed their patrol, and let the subject drop.

* * *

It was nearly sundown when Jak peeked around one of the cliff corners and brought his fist up, signaling for Torn to stop. An instant later, he motioned him up, the Underground commander saw why his comrade had halted. Fifty feet in front of the elves, nestled next to some trees, was a battered K.G. dropship. A quick look over the damaged transport showed a massive amount of energy scoring on the right side, making no mystery what had brought it down. Furthermore, around it were the bodies of several Guard members, their blood dried on the sand and rocks of the cliff.

The trio cautiously approach the vehicle, searching for signs of life, elven, or otherwise. Abruptly, Jak leaped forward, and hit the ground rolling. His morph-gun came up just in time to put a slightly older female elf directly in the crosshairs of his sights. Their gazes locked for a few seconds, before Jak lowered his magnum.

"Do you always drop out of trees when friends come by to say hello, Ashelin?" Torn said with a rare grin on his face.

"When they're elves I don't know, I opt for caution, Torn. He has good reflexes though." the girl responded, gesturing in the dark elf's direction.

"I'll assume this is your friend?" Jak inquired, his mind racing, he knew that voice from somewhere, and the name Ashelin also sounded very familiar.

"Yeah, Ashelin, meet Jak, one of our newer recruits. Jak, this is Ashelin, a lieutenant within the Krimzon Guard and quite possibly the best informant the Underground has." Torn said, his tone formal even if the former Channeler was able to see right through it.

"What makes her so special?" the eco infused elf asked, wanting the puzzle he was trying to assemble completed.

Torn remained silent, scratching the back of his head, wondering how he could phrase this. However, she beat him to the punch.

"Baron Praxis is my father." Ashelin stated in a somber tone.

Now it clicked, and the mere mention of that cursed name was all it took to cause Jak's inner demon to try and burst free. His jaw became set, and his eyes hardened, while his grip on his weapons tightened past the point of turning his knuckles white.

"Easy there," Ashelin told him, noticing his state, "I'm nothing like my father."

It was strange, the creature within ceased trying to free itself, as if it was confused, and it became a simple enough matter to will it away. Daxter, having noticed the look of pent up fury, sighed in relief, before turning his attention to the female trooper.

"Well, now that I know that I'm not going to be fraternizing with the enemy, you got a number I can get a-hold of you at?" he said in a suave tone.

The response he got was a growl from Torn as the veteran pointed his rifle straight at the Ottsel. Daxter gulped, and prepared to say goodbye to this cruel world. However, his life was miraculously spared by fire from another weapon. All three turned to see Jak, pistol out and sword held back. Another staccato filled the air, and a Metal Head death wail followed it.

All of them simply stared at Jak as a Drone fell from the cliff about one hundred feet from him. They were dumbfounded. The light of the day was waning as night encroached upon them, hiding the dark skinned creature. Furthermore, the beast had been in the heavy brush and trees that covered the top of the plateau, creating additional camouflage. And as a result, one thought went through the minds of both Torn and Ashelin, who were not at all familiar with what had been done to the dark elf.

How in the name of the Precursors had he seen that thing, let alone shot it?

Their answer was another burst of fire, followed by yet another roar of pain. However, the roars that followed were more like those of pure bloodlust than agony, and a large number of the monsters soon leapt down to their level, hungry for the flesh of those standing there.

"A little help here, if you don't mind." Jak growled.

The response was immediate. Torn ripped the clip out of his rifle, and changed the mode of the gun to something more suited for crowd control. The weapon hummed, and changed, becoming larger, more cylindrical in appearance. The Underground commander reached into his satchel, and drew a square shaped energy clip, before slamming it into the side of the gun. As he was taking aim at the largest group, Ashelin drew a pair of pistols, and opened fire. As for Daxter, well, he pretty much was too petrified to even move, let alone think of accomplishing the impossible by attacking one of those demons.

One leaped at Jak, and Kitetsu flashed, bisecting it. A blue comet lit up the twilight of the plateau as a charge shot from his magnum streaked towards one of several Crab Heads that had joined the party. The creature cried out in agony as it felt the shot plow into it. It was younger than its fellows, and less experienced in the ways of battle, and thus it instinctively brought its claws to its wound. Jak rushed forward at dazzling speed, intending to capitalize on that fatal error. He flipped his katana around so it was held knife fighter style, before leaping up and plunging it into the beast's skull.

Ashelin gunned one down, and then turned to find Jak dancing past her, Metal Head bodies scattered in his wake. He spun about, cleaving one's head off, and pumping another full of Eco at the same time, before vaulting nearly twenty feet into the air. As the daughter of Praxis gaped at the impossibility of his action, he came down on the back of another Crab Head, driving the dark katana up to its hilt into it. And when the creature twisted about in an attempt to shoot him, the dark elf calmly pumped three bursts of fire into its head at point blank range.

Especially

Another Crab Head took notice of was going on, and turned its twin blasters on the former Channeler. Any normal elf would have been cut down in an instant. But Jak had long ago come to grips with the fact that he was no longer normal.

He whipped the blade back and forth, deflecting the bolts that were being shot at him, and his own retaliatory fire was soon being sent on its way. Blue and purple colored eco bursts passed each other as elf and Metal Head tried to send each other to Death's domain. Finally, Jak's persistence, (and superior accuracy), paid off, as a well placed charge shot finally managed to tear off a portion of the beast's torso armor. The torso itself followed the protection a couple of seconds later.

Torn was also putting up a stubborn resistance, he braced his new gun against his shoulder, and pulled the trigger. A beam of red energy shot out of the barrel, and hit a Grunt dead on, before scattering into a half dozen or so other rays that skipped about at random angles. The secondary blasts were short range, minimizing the chance of friendly fire accidents, while at the same time maximizing the damage that could be inflicted upon a group of bunched up enemies. Their supplier had aptly enough named this gun "the shredder". He had also fought Metal Heads on multiple occasions, and even once been involved in an assault upon their nest, so he was quite familiar with their tactics, and thus, even in the dark, knew where they would be coming from, as many a death gurgle indicated.

One Drone, more ingenious than its fellows, somehow managed to get up in a tree, and then launched itself at the hardened commander, thinking to catch him by surprise. Torn immediately turned the tables on the beast by giving it a wallop from his shredder. It reeled backwards as the Underground soldier bashed it over the head again, before kicking it, virtually caving in its skull, and then, to ensure its death, he drew the curved dagger that he had hidden on his body. As the creature grasped its torn throat, he sheathed his knife, and began firing once more.

Ashelin, while well trained, had neither the knowledge nor the amped up vision of her two compatriots. This was not to say that she wasn't as good as they were, as after about a minute of fighting in near blackness, she decided to even up the odds.

The Guard member quickly holstered her pistols, reached into her belt, and withdrew a piston shaped object from a pouch inside. Pausing just long enough to give the top a quick twist, she then hurled the object into the midst of the attacking monsters.

Twilight became high noon as the flare ignited, startling the creatures, and lighting them up like they were on display at a shop. The daughter of Praxis smiled grimly as the tables were turned, and her own blaster fire joined Torn's and Jak's in an attempt to ruthlessly destroy their attackers. Many fell dead from precision shots through their skulls, and she actually managed to shoot out the eyes of one the Crab Heads overseeing the battle, making the creature all the easier to finish off with a second, more conventional grenade.

Then a problem cropped up.

For the Metal Heads.

Jak ejected a spent energy pack, and went to slam a fresh one into the loading mechanism of his gun. But as he did so, he heard a scream. In the confusion, he had forgotten about Daxter, and the fact that his furry friend had absolutely nothing with him that could hope to take down a Metal Head. He looked over his shoulder, and saw a Grunt charging for the Ottsel. With no time to reload, Jak did the first thing that came to his mind.

He threw his blade.

It spun, end over end, towards its target. The aim was unerring, and the Metal Head could not have been more surprised when it suddenly crashed to the ground, the blade sticking out through its heart. However, despite Daxter's relief that he was both intact, and had managed to avoid soiling himself, he was very much aware that Jak was now left with an unloaded gun as his only means of defense. The monsters were quick to capitalize on this apparent weakness.

As he went to reload, a zealous Drone tackled him to the ground, knocking the wind from his lungs and sending the gun arcing away from his hand. The beast went into a mad fury then, tearing at his chest, cutting him to the bone. Torn and Ashelin heard his cries just in time to watch the Metal Head bite into Jak's shoulder, and all but rip it off in its bloodlust. Daxter was horrified, knowing it was his fault that his best friend was about to wind up as metal meat.

As for Jak, the pain was intense, almost as bad as the treatments had been. He could feel the eco and blood both drain from his body, and his world began growing dark. Then something happened. For the third time, a red haze descended over his vision. The Dark Eco burned within him, and the transformation began.

The trio watched as the cries of pain turned into a bloodthirsty roar. The demon had been set free once more. The Drone looked down at its prey stupidly, not fully understanding the sudden change of the odds. The demon was all too willing to drive the point home. In a single, impossibly fluid motion, the demon leaped up, grabbed the Metal Head around its throat, and slammed it into the ground with enough force to leave an indentation.

If one were to suddenly gaze down upon the battle, one would think a time freeze had suddenly occurred. No one moved. All were transfixed by the image of the beast that had emerged from the elf. Torn, Ashelin, and Daxter watched with a sense of awe as Jak's slash wounds and mangled shoulder began to heal, skin, muscle and sinew all knitting themselves back together at several hundred times the normal rate.

"What the..." was all Torn could say.

It proved to be a cue, as the demon took that moment to charge into the ranks of the Metal Heads, its talons carving through their armor and tough skin like both were non-existent. Its speed was surprisingly great for a being of its bulk, and within moments, the lesser of the creatures were beating a hasty retreat for the apparent safety of the plateau forests.

It would be in vain.

What everyone failed to take notice of, though, was Kitetsu. The blade, still imbedded within the Metal Head's corpse, began to crackle with Dark Eco lighting, and the runes in its length glowed a dull red, like embers from a dying fire. This anomaly lasted perhaps ten seconds, before the blade returned to its normal state.

One Crab Head, bolder, or perhaps stupider than its fellows, stood its ground, and actually charged at the beast, its blasters firing. The creature then performed another old trick. It leapt, not at the large monster, but at the cliff wall. The five inch talons on its fingers easily sank into the rock and the demon began to "crawl" along the stony ridge faster than most elves could run. Once it was in position, it jumped once again. Three shots hit home upon the demon's chest, but did not stop it.

The next thing the Crab Head knew, the demon had wrapped it up in a bear hug. Its own muscles bulged like coiled springs, but did nothing against the monster it faced. The pressure became greater, and black blood began to flow from its mouth, until there was a loud and echoing "crack", and the creature went limp, its spine crushed. The demon then gave a roar that would have sent fear into the heart of any sane creature, before it charged after the fleeing monsters.

Daxter had walked over next to the other two elves, and watched the massacre in progress. Both of them stared long and hard at the Ottsel, as if demanding some kind of explanation for the sudden change in Jak. Not surprisingly, the mutated elf decided to crack a joke.

"I told him he needed to take anger management, but did he listen?"

A sudden burst of bright purple light interrupted the bad wisecrack, and drew the trio's attention back to the demon. As the last thirty or so Metal Heads tried desperately to make it to cover, Jak's alter ego was charging up a ball of Dark Eco between its claws. Moments later, the demon chucked it at the fleeing group.

"Well, this is something ne…" Daxter began, before the attack connected and its blast drowned him out

The resulting explosion made a shockwave that pushed the hair of the two elves back, and knocked Daxter flat on his rear. Bits of Metal Heads rained from the air, hitting the ground with wet, splattering sounds. As the haze cleared, Jak could bee seen, on his knees, gasping for breath. Daxter scrambled up, and rushed towards his friend.

"Jak, are you alright?" he asked, quickly searching for any existing injuries on the dark elf.

"It…happened again, didn't it?" Jak asked, looking around at the devastation he could scarely believe had been unleashed.

"Either that, or Ashelin had a bunch of insta-grow troopers in her back pocket." Daxter replied with sarcasm.

The former Channeler looked up, and saw both of the other elves staring hard at him; mirroring the same look of fear and uncertainty he had seen in the eyes of the child in his first few minutes of freedom.

"What…what the hell are you?" Torn said, the anxiety further manifesting itself in his voice.

"Something, not entirely elven anymore." was Jak's reply.

"What do you mean?" Ashelin asked him, while gazing at the unmistakable Dark Eco that still covered his chest and shoulder, though the wounds had healed.

"Next time you're at home," Jak growled, getting up to his feet, "look up the Dark Warrior Project. It could probably tell you more than I could, lab rats don't usually get fed all the details about what they're being used for."

The two elves stared at him, and then to Daxter, who simply nodded. The Ottsel was somber and without words for one of the few times in his life. It was then that Ashelin noticed something else about the dark elf. His tunic was ragged and torn open, revealing something strange. Emblazoned upon his chest were four black letters, XXVI. She blinked, and Jak noticed, hastily covering the tattoo.

The former Channeler glared at her as he walked by, heading for his discarded gun and sword. He reached the gun first, and slipped in a fresh pack, as his ammo belt had remained miraculously intact during the encounter. With that accomplished, he treaded over to the fallen Metal Head that had attacked Daxter, and yanked his katana free of its carcass.

"Who taught you how to swordfight like that?" Torn asked him abruptly, knowing of no other person within the Underground who had mastered what many considered an archaic and antique relic of a by-gone era. As a matter of fact, there was only one type of people he had ever observed using weapons like that, and the only one of them within two thousand miles was currently six years old.

"No one taught me, I just know how to. It's something I can't explain." Jak replied with a shrug, before sitting down next to the transport.

The last thing he heard before slipping into a much needed and deserved rest, was Ashelin telling Torn and Daxter to come give her a hand with repairing the transport.

* * *

&

* * *

So what did you think? Truthfully, I believe I might of accidentally gotten Torn a little OOC in this chapter, if I have, or if I ever get someone glaringly OOC, please let me know.

On another note, I will give you people three guesses to figure out who it was in Torn's flashback, though you're probably only going to need one.

I hope you enjoyed the time you took to read this chapter, and please, feel free to give me any ideas, questions, comments, or flames in the form of a review.

Thanks again for your time, and have a great day.


	8. Of Blind Seers, and Prophecies

Good day to you all, and I hope your life is treating you better than mine is. School's been a pain, and my chemistry teacher is going out of his way to flunk the entire class, namely by giving us practice tests to study by, and then presenting us with the real thing that has nothing whatsoever in common with what we spent the last three days reviewing over.

But my own school problems aside, I feel the need to reply to all of you who have reviewed.

Light Eco Sage- I'm glad you liked the chapter, and you're first guess was correct. As for the joke, well, expect Daxter to make more wisecracks of that nature in the future.

Something Stupid- Hmmmm, I never thought about such a possibility, and it actually has given me an idea for later on, for that, I thank you, and am glad that you have enjoyed my feeble attempts at a novelization.

Lunatic Pandora1- Hehe, expect to see Tall, Dark and Gruesome appearing more frequently in coming chapters. As for Kitetsu reacting as it did, all I can tell you is to watch and wait.

TUG- Actually, I got the idea for the tattoos from Final Fantasy Seven's SOLDIER program. Basically, they take a normal grunt trooper, pump him full of Mako (the lifeblood of the planet) and the end result is a warrior with superhuman strength, speed, vary degrees of healing factors, and the ability to use magic. SOLDIERs are all issued a tattoo type serial number and are also easily identifiable by their eyes, which have a neon type glow to them from the extensive Mako treatments. On other notes, I am glad that you like the direction that I am trying to take with Dark Jak. As far as sarcasm is concerned, that's Daxter's job, and Errol's enough of a sociopath for any three games. I'm also glad that you liked the flashback, and I think I'm pretty much going to dedicate an entire chapter to that memory later in the game.

Weiila- to even have a writer of your caliber read my story, let alone review it, is an honor that I do not feel worthy of. I'm glad that you think I'm adding a degree of realism to the story, as there were some things that really struck me as being odd in the game, things I would have done differently. (bows in humility) Also, I tried to e-mail you one of my rough drafts, since you said you'd be willing to give me some pointers, but it said something about you being over your storage limit.

Legal Crap- I no own, so you no sue.

* * *

&

* * *

Of Blind Seers, and Prophecies

Kitetsu sang and his blaster spat blue energy at the never ending tide of monsters. Still, they came, clawing, slashing, biting, desperate to tear him apart, desperate to kill him. His muscles, ached, his lungs screamed for air, and Dark Eco streamed from his many wounds. All the while, the larger beast laughed in its deep voice, mocking his futile attempts at survival. Screams tore his attention away, and he watched in horror as Keira, Daxter, and Samos fell to the hordes of Metal Heads. The distraction would prove fatal, as they were upon him before he could realize his error in judgment, bearing him to the ground and beginning to rend his flesh.

* * *

Jak snapped awake, weapons out. It took him a little while to realize where he was: still leaning up against the side of the transport. It had just been another one of his seemingly endless nightmares. As his breathing began to return to normal, he relaxed slightly, and looked around.

The sun was still down, so he couldn't have been asleep more than a few hours. Behind him, he could hear Torn swearing, followed by an electrical discharge of some sort. Muttering under his breath, he re-holstered his weapons, and moved around to see if he could assist in any way, if for no other reason than for the fact that they were sitting ducks out here.

"Glad to see you're awake, buddy." Daxter told him, while shaking with exertion from trying to hold up a part to a repulsor lift.

Jak simply nodded, and took the heavy piece of machinery from his diminutive friend. He held it steady wordlessly while Torn and Ashelin arc welded it back into place.

* * *

Finally, enough of the transport had been repaired to enable them to get the heck out of this place. Without further ado, they clambered in, and Ashelin piloted the dropship out of the area.

"You never told me what you were doing out here." Torn asked her, concern creeping into his normally iron hard voice.

"My old man's got us out on suicide missions looking for Mar's Tomb." She said bitterly. "He's crazy about finding any artifacts from his rule as well. Don't ask me what he wants with them, because I don't know. However, if you think curiosity is worth dying for, you might want to have a little chat with Onin."

"Who's that?" Jak inquired, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"She's a blind soothsayer, lives in the Bazaar sector of the city." Torn answered, his voice returning to normal.

Jak fell silent, musing over various courses of action.

A few minutes later, they were close enough to safely make it the rest of the way on foot. Her eyes glued to the various scanners, Ashelin set them down about a mile from the city gates, out of sight from the watch towers on the Shield Wall. Daxter clambered up onto Jak's shoulder, taking his usual spot on the small shoulder pauldron.

"Go on ahead, Jak, I'll catch up to ya." Torn instructed him.

Jak nodded, and then headed out, his eyes scanning constantly for the slightest hint of a Metal Head.

Fortunately, they seemed to be keeping their distance this day, possibly due to the unexplained appearance of some ashen skinned monster that cut them down like wheat on the previous one, and so the two made it back to the city without any trouble. Without hesitation, the elf stepped into an airlock, and made his way into the city, relieved to have come through that last ordeal alive.

For yet another time, this strange animal within him had saved him from severe injury, or possibly death. Yet, even now, after having it within him for months, he still knew virtually nothing about it. It was a mystery, an enigma. It seemed to have been born from the Dark Eco injections that he had been given over the course of his prison years, and yet, at the same time, there was something unmistakably familiar about it. Then there was its thought processes. It was an entity that was driven by instincts, bestial urges, but there were times when it seemed to be expressing a degree of understanding or curiosity that went beyond what animals were supposed to be capable of. So what did that make it?

The thought of the creature made it surface again in the dark elf's thoughts. It seemed curious once again, almost is if it was wondering what it was Jak wanted. This was strange, was it actually exhibiting…loyalty?

A shake of his head sent it back into the depths of his consciousness, and he and Daxter made their way back towards the base. If he was going to be out in public for an extended period of time, the least he could do to avoid drawing attention to himself was to have a decent set of clothes.

* * *

The Bazaar was a place of absolute chaos. The bitter chill of winter tore at his clothing, trying to find a chink in his protection to assault him as he navigated the bustling streets of hawking merchants who were trying to convince him that he couldn't live without a certain item that only they had in their possession. He longed for Sandover, with the population being a grand total of about forty, which meant that some peace and quiet was possible.

Eventually, he was able to "convince" one peddler that he was simply looking for a seer that supposedly lived around here. The man had quickly given him the information that he had needed, and Jak went on his way.

For once, he was grateful for his long clothing, irritating as it could be when he started to get heated up, it certainly was more effective in keeping the cold at bay. The cold winter air served as a reminder that it would be yuletide soon, a time of merrymaking and joy. At least, that was what it was for normal elves. For someone like him, it would be just another day in the wretched hell that his life had become.

When he at last beheld it, it was far from what he would have expected. Onin's dwelling was a simple cloth tent, just barely thick enough to keep in the biting chill of the air out. Steeling himself, Jak opened the flap, and stepped inside. Immediately, he was assaulted by a variety of different odors, all of which made his head swim. Daxter, however, was more interested in a dead monkeet that was hanging from a pole near the entrance.

"Cool, check out the dead stuff." he told his larger compatriot, poking the creature with his finger.

Revealing the monkeet to be not quite so dead after all. With a snap of its powerful jaws that nearly took off a few furry appendages, it bolted awake and glared balefully at the two standing in front of it.

"Touch the goods again, rat boy, and you'll be," he stopped in mid-sentence with a squawk, "counting with your toes."

"Ack!" Daxter said, and he bolted behind Jak's shoulder, visibly startled.

"Who are you?" Jak asked, turning his azure eyes upon the animal.

"The name is Pecker." the monkeet replied, earning him a couple of chuckles from the two in front of him. "Yes, yes, I know, my mother…she was very vindictive." he grumbled bitterly. "At any rate, I am Onin's translator, and very much glad that you have finally arrived."

No sooner did he finish, than he relinquished his tail's grip upon the pole, and flew over to a frail looking blind lady at the far end of the tent. Onin, Jak assumed, turned her sightless eyes towards him, and waggled her fingers about. Strange sparks flew from her fingers as she did so, creating a series of intricate designs in the air.

"Onin says, Greetings unto you, Channeler, and that it is good to see you once more." Pecker told him.

"But we've never met." Jak said, bafflement in his voice, and he also did not miss what she had called him.

Another short flurry of symbols, translated by Pecker, met his reply.

"She says, that's what you think."

"Just a par-boiled minute here," Daxter said, pointing an accusing finger at Onin, apparently forgetting that she couldn't see it in the first place. "Just how do you know what Jak is?"

Once more, the symbols flashed.

"I see many things that you cannot, as you are blind and ignorant despite your sight, oh formerly buck-toothed elf." Pecker translated, amusement lighting up in his eyes.

That effectively shut the Ottsel up.

"What do you know of the Baron, why is he after Mar's Tomb? What's so important about it?" Jak inquired as he crossed his arms.

Onin made some rapid gestures.

"The tyrant seeks the resting place of Mar because of the legends that surround it." The monkeet told him.

"Just who was Mar?" Jak inquired, changing the subject abruptly, something nagging in the back of his mind.

"I see Onin wasn't kidding when she said you weren't from around here." Pecker replied with a roll of his eyes. "Mar was the founder of this city, designed to be a haven from the Metal Heads. In his day, he was a mighty warrior, a Channeler in fact."

"He was a Channeler?" Jak said, unable to hide his surprise.

"Yes, to the greatest extent of our knowledge, the last of them upon this continent by that point in time." the familiar stated in an offhand manner.

"Why is that?" Daxter asked, confusion written on his features.

If there was one thing hanging around Jak all these years had taught him, its was that to bring down a Channeler, required one to have what might pass as a small army at one's back.

"The Metal Heads have hunted Channelers for the longest time, killing them without mercy whenever they could overpower one." Pecker translated.

"Why's that?" the dark elf inquired, wondering why these beasts would have a vendetta against what used to be his kind.

"They fear them, or rather, their leader fears them, for an ancient prophecy states that one of them shall be his doom." the familiar told him.

"Well, I suppose if that isn't motivation enough, nothing is." the Ottsel remarked, grinning cheekily.

Suddenly, Onin broke into another fit of signing. Pecker stared at the old lady hard for a moment, his look saying 'you have got to be kidding me, right', before shrugging and turning back to them.

"Onin requests to see the blade that you are carrying." He told Jak.

"Blade? I'm not carrying a blade." Jak stated uneasily, unconsciously registering the feeling of the katana strapped to his back, hidden under his coat, earning him more of those strange symbols.

"Onin says you are a terrible liar." the familiar sounded amused.

Hesitantly, Jak reached underneath the trench-coat he was wearing and slid the sword free of its scabbard. Slowly, he walked towards Onin, before extending the weapon, grip first, towards the soothsayer. She quickly snatched the blade, before running her fingers over it. Pecker, whose eyes till functioned, took one look at the katana, and let out an audible gasp.

"Yeah, yeah we know it's a nice shinny pocket knife, but I'm afraid we don't know where you can get your own, bird brain." Daxter said as he rolled his eyes.

The next thing that Jak was aware of was Pecker rapidly flying towards him like a miniature kamikaze pilot, and his blasting of Daxter off his shoulder. Within seconds, he was choking the life out of the poor rodent, and banging his head against the tent floor for good measure too.

"You, stupid, ignorant, shortsighted, fool of a rodent!" he said, continuing his assault with every word. "You do not even recognize the significance of that sword?"

"What are you talking about, why is Kitetsu so special?" Jak asked, as he pulled the monkeet off of his friend, holding him by the scruff of the next to ensure his fingers remained attached to their respective hands, while at the same time giving the bird the glare that was rapidly making him famous, or perhaps, infamous among the resistance forces.

"That katana is the very blade that Mar wielded throughout his life! The weapon that has been passed down through the ages of the royal family!" Pecker exclaimed, flapping his wings to emphasize his point.

"Then mind explaining how it wound up in Dead Town?" Daxter asked as he massaged his bruised throat."

"The blade was lost in battle when the last King, Damas Mar, fell leading an assault upon the Metal Head Nest. As for how it managed to get to Dead Town…well…you're guess is only slightly worse than mine." the familiar said with a shrug.

By this time, Onin appeared to be through with the sword, and placed it gently at her feet.

The former Channeler quickly released his hold upon Pecker, and walked over to the katana. He then stuck his foot under the blade, whereupon he used it to launch the blade up into the air, and into his waiting hand. While he was sheathing it, though, he missed the faint smile that came over Onin's face. The soothsayer may have lacked eyesight, but she was not deaf.

However, the smile faded as she resumed her normal form of communication.

"Onin says that you should know of this Prophecy concerning the fall of the Metal Head leader." Pecker faithfully translated. "Listen closely, as I am only saying this once, because speaking in all this mystic crap is not easy on the lips." Pecker said, before launching into it.

However, Jak never heard the words. Even as the monkeet went to speak, he felt his consciousness whisked away to another place. He couldn't make out much as far as the surroundings were concerned, but it was what was right in front of him that drew his attention.

Something, a life form of some kind, was floating in front of him, its multi-jointed legs hovering about six inches above the ground and its dreadlocks flowing from some unseen wind. From head to toe, black, angular armor covered it, while a strange pair of what appeared to be horn like protrusions came from off of its helmet. There was also a mirrored visor of a slightly lighter shade of black across where its eyes would be. Those eyes suddenly became visible behind the visor, glowing red, and a voice, deep and commanding, but at the same time, soothing, filled his mind. 

_And thus, a Fallen Angel shall become a Risen Demon. Out of Darkness shall salvation come, as the Shadows give birth to the Hora-quan's bane. Armed with the Sword of Kings, a scion of the Ancients shall strike down the enemy of all who live, and end the threat of an ages old menace. _

As Pecker finished, the vision and voice vanished as suddenly as they appeared. Jak shook his head, what the heck had that been all about?

"Man, maybe I wasn't too off the mark when I called ya King Arthur, ey buddy?" Daxter said, earning him a stare from Jak and a look of utter disbelief as Pecker rubbed his head with his wings.

"Regardless of your fur ball companion's ridiculous statements, you have recovered a very important artifact. Kitetsu is indeed a blade of legend, supposedly forged from the knowledge of the Precursors themselves, and a weapon that until recently, was a symbol for Haven itself." the monkeet said in a superior tone as he composed himself.

"Interesting, and it certainly explains why I keep getting strange looks whenever someone sees me with it, but how does all of this apply to me?" the dark elf stated as he re-drew his weapon, gazing at what he now realized was a royal heirloom.

"Onin says that the Prophecy pertains to the son of Damas, young Alexander, who is, as you know, currently in the care of the Underground. She believes that you are an integral part to the Prophecy, and that you will assist the young prince his time of most desperate need." Pecker answered.

"That kid needs a better role model than me." the Eco infused elf responded, his tone as cold as an artic wind. "I'm no hero, so what would a soon to be one need me for?" He said, before pivoting about to leave.

Onin seemed almost sad, as she weaved the next set of symbols in the air.

"The people of Sandover would likely disagree with you, oh Conqueror of Fallen Sages." Pecker told the retreating elf.

Jak stopped, his feet apparently anchored to the ground. Daxter couldn't see his friend's face, as he was staring back at the soothsayer with a stunned expression on his furry visage. However, had he been able to, it would have no doubt shocked him. For a single, glaring instant, one of the elf's most painful wounds had been torn open, and his chilled exterior cracked, letting anyone who stared at him gaze upon the battered soul within. A single tear hovered at the edge of his eye, threatening to fall. However, the warrior soon composed himself, and it remained unshed.

Still, many stunned seconds passed, before Jak finally found his voice.

"Lady, you are seriously starting to freak me out." His voice was once again, icy, but the wise old woman could hear a small waver in it.

Once more, bright symbols leapt through the air.

"She says, "That is my job." Pecker responded.

The signing continued for a few more seconds, before Pecker sighed, and massaged his mouth.

"Onin tells you that your first task in assisting young Mar will be the retrieval of three artifacts from the local forest." he told them, before staring hard in the direction of the two. "You are to find three, not one, for that is two too few, not four, for that is one too many. You may collect two, but only in the process of going to three. Three, no more, no less, one, two, three." Pecker said, emphasizing his point with wild gestures of his wings.

"Yeah, yeah, we got ya, six artifacts," Daxter said, waving his hand dismissively before getting back up on his perch.

This had the humorous result of causing Pecker to screech like a shot bird, and fall back in a dead faint. However, a pulse of energy from the seer's hand soon jolted him back to full consciousness. He shot Onin a look, before proceeding to translate a description of the artifacts they were supposed to locate, as well as a general location for where they might be.

Jak just sighed and shook his head, before he became aware of Onin gesturing towards a sack of provisions in the far corner of the tent. Assuming that she meant for him to take them, Jak strode over and picked them up, before heading out of the tent, and back into the biting numbness of the frosty air.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the Haven Palace, Ashelin Praxis was furiously hacking away at a computer terminal. Her fingers flew over the keyboard, inserting wedges, spikes, and other such means of thwarting the high level security present in where she was snooping around. One of these days, she was going to have to weasel those pass-codes out of her old man.

For some time, she continued onward, before finally reaching her objective. Hesitantly, she clicked on the folder that she had finally pried loose from the depths of her father's most secretive files.

For a while she cruised through the series of theories, hypothesis, and simulated data…before she reached the folders of the test subjects. She clicked on the first one. It had a picture of an elf, his height and weight, eye color and other such things, and a scant bit of data that ended with a brief, cold sentence telling of his death by Eco Poisoning. The next was much the same, as was the third, and several more after that.

Disgusted as she was, the Krimzon Guard lieutenant growled in frustration. How was she supposed to find which folder had been Jak's? There were dozens of these things, and it was only a matter of time before some security protocol or another elf became aware of what she was doing. Then she realized something, the tattoo that the Underground fighter had on his chest, XXVI.

"They weren't letters at all," she breathed, "they were numbers!"

Quickly, she scanned down the list, and found the twenty sixth folder, before clicking on it. At first it was much the same, as the others.

Subject's First Name:Jak

Subject's Last Name:Unknown

Height (upon last folder update): 5' 10

Weight (upon last folder update): 140 lbs.

Hair Color: Blond-green

Eye Color: Blue

Age (upon last folder update): 18 (approx.)

Time spent within program: 2.3 years

It was the age, combined with a mug shot presumably taken when he had been "recruited", that disturbed Ashelin the most. He had only been a boy, a fact reinforced by the scared individual she saw in the photo. Mentally, she compared it to the face that she remembered seeing when he and Torn had come looking for her. His features were harder now, his eyes had a glare to them, his face a near constant scowl, testimony to his having survived one of the harshest places on the planet for more than two years.

Driven by a sickening curiosity, she pressed onward, reading more. Most of the data she didn't understand, and only knew that it had something to do with Dark Eco. Truthfully, she was confused. The other files that she had read had been those of adults, healthy, and strong, yet they had lasted a few weeks at best. So how had this mere boy survived?

The answer came with another entry into the databank.

_Hypothesis was confirmed today, subject determined to have Channeling abilities. Experiments show that subject possesses abnormal power potential, even among historical Channelers. Therefore, it is likely that Eco concentration may be increased by 37.5 percent with next treatment without test subject suffering from any detrimental effects._

She paused, and read the line once more, letting it sink it.

"Oh, my, God…" she said softly.

Another Channeler, here, now? How was it possible?

Before she could contemplate on that much more, another small statement caught her eye. Bile rose in her throat and disgust filled her soul as she read the article. Apparently, her father and Errol had wanted their super soldiers broken and malleable upon their implementation, and thus the former had given the latter a very broad range of different "tutoring methods" to implement against the young boy. There was a flawlessly detailed list of near daily beatings as well as other techniques such as food and sleep deprivation, and one other type as well.

Suppressing a shudder, she skimmed over the rest of the file, before downloading it to a disk, and covering her tracks.

Torn and the Shadow needed to know this, and they needed to know it now.

* * *

Ashelin wasn't the only mole that was busy that particular night. A blond hair elf stared around the garage area of the Stadium, taking in the shadows that moved in the darkened courtyard. Once she was certain there were no guards randomly patrolling the area, she made her move. One would have barely been able to hear the footfalls the elf made as she scurried around to her target.

Within the garage, there was no light except for what was coming from behind that green curtain that hid whatever in the world it was her friend had been working on. The elf stepped inside, striding towards the barrier. She pushed aside the large curtain, starling the other elf, and nearly getting blowtorched as a result.

"Jeez, Keira, watch where your pointing that thing!" she exclaimed, leaping back away from the blue-hot flame.

"Keep it down, Tess, you want to let the whole neighborhood know I've got company?" the other elf hissed at her, switching the torch off and lifting up her faceplate.

"Sorry." both exclaimed at once, before rolling their eyes at each other.

"So, what brings you out here?" Keira asked, leaning against the strange contraption that she had been working on for the Precursors knew how long.

"The Shadow wants Torn to execute a raid within the next week, a little holiday gift from us to the local tyrant." the older elf responded. "Are you…you know…finished with them?"

"Yeah, but I haven't had a chance to field test one of them yet." The aqua haired elf answered, heading out of her work area and towards the stairs that led to her apartment above.

"Why not?" her friend asked, falling in step behind her.

"Well, for starters, if I where to try one out here, I'd be up to my neck in K.G. before my teeth even stopped rattling, and they're not infantry weapons, so if I were to go try one out on some Metal Heads as they are right now, the first time I fired, I'd blow my shoulder right out of the socket." Keira answered as she opened the door to her home. "I've got a mobile version in the works, but I'm still having some problems with the power source."

"I'm sure you'll have it figured out in no time flat." Tess said in an encouraging way.

"Let's hope so…" Keira muttered, trailing off as she reached a back room.

Withdrawing a key, the aqua haired elf, quickly unlocked the door, and pushed it open. Within it was another workshop, but this one dedicated towards building machines of a considerably more destructive nature. Weapon schematics and morph-gun mods were scattered about, while another gun, a long barreled rifle of some sort, sat on a workbench. However, what had brought Tess to her friend's residence at this ungodly hour was for something else.

They were lined up, all ten of them, in boxes at the far end of the room. Each package was about six feet long, and three feet wide, and if what Keira had been trying to accomplish was correct, probably weighed the better part of two hundred pounds.

Walking over to them, the young mechanic lifted the lid off of one of the crates, letting her friend see its contents. Tess had seen the designs and blue-prints of these guns, but to see them in person was something else, and she couldn't hold back an awed whistle.

"Don't start celebrating yet, I still don't know if they're going to work or not." Keira cautioned, earning her a nod from the other Underground soldier.

"We'll find out soon enough." Tess responded with a shrug. "Torn wanted me to make sure these were all ready, and then he'll have some people drop by in about an hour or so to pick them up."

Keira simple nodded, and remained silent.

* * *

Some time later, the young mechanic sat on her bed, staring at the wall. Two and half. Two and a half years since she had gotten stranded in this place, and so far there had been not one sign of Jak, her father, or even Daxter. She never thought she'd ever feel this way, but she was actually missing that orange rodent, if for no other purpose than to have a familiar face about. Her father, well, she just couldn't understand why she hadn't found him yet. After all, green skinned elves with logs sticking out of their hair weren't exactly everyday sights, even in this hell.

Jak. By the precursors, howshe missed him, wanted to hold him again. She wanted to stare into his eyes, and be assured that everything was going to be all right. She wanted things to be like they had been before, before this chaos had come about. Sighing bitterly, she laid down.

"Jak, where could you be?" she asked herself quietly, as she stared at the ceiling.

Little did she know, the former Channeler was both closer to and farther from her than she could have imagined.

* * *

&

* * *

So tell me, is this chapter as big a piece of crap as I think it is?

To those who may be a bit put off by the fact that I have gone ahead and created a character of my own, let me stress that his role in things will be exceedingly minor. Also, if anyone thinks they know who or what the strange floating thing was, feel free to state it, once again, you have three guesses, and those who guess correctly shall receive a hearty congratulations. Also, as far as his 'horns' were concerned, think of them as looking sorta like the one's on the Elite honor guard in Halo 2, minus the glowing part.

Also, I do not know when my next update will be, as I have been nailed with some major homework projects by my ever so loving teachers. Not helping is the fact that I recently purchased Devil May Cry 3, and let me tell you, that game is hard, and addicting.

So, feel free to leave me a question, comment, or a constructive criticism in the form of a review, or point out any glaring errors. And also do not hesitate to offer an idea, as there is a good chance I will need some outside inspiration later on. So thanks for reading, and have a great day.


	9. Found: One Mole

Greetings people, good to see you again. Got this chapter up a little sooner than I was expecting, mainly due to the fact that I've been hit with a case of writer's block, and even after proofreading the blasted thing about six or seven times, I can't think of a way to improve it beyond the mundane quality that it possesses, which is irritating me to no end.

Anyway, my writing problems aside, my thanks to those of you who have reviewed.

**Light Eco Sage**- Yeah, its annoying, as soon as I'm done with this, I have to type up a history report on the Dead Sea Scrolls, joy.

**Lunatic Pandora1**- Glad you liked it, and I can safely tell you to expect communication between the two to improve over time, and for the creature within our favorite Channeler to make more frequent appearances.

**Something Stupid**- kind of amazing how little faith I place in my own skills isn't it? But, I know what you mean about movies and plot holes, more of those seem to be popping up every year. Oh well, at least we always have books and stories to retreat to in such times. Thanks for your support. (bows)

**Morwen**- I honestly can't say that I've done something like that, but I'll assume its fun, thanks for the vote of confidence.

**TUG**- Yeah, there are quite a few of those games from Square. I'm glad that you liked the approach I took with Onin and Pecker, though I feel a bit of shame at that blatant steal from Monty Python and the Quest for the Holy Grail. As far as the Mar connection is concerned, that was, in my humble opinion, one of the greatest plot drivers for the second game, and one of my favorite parts. I'm also pleased that you like the approach that I am taking with Dark Jak, and hope that it continues to be somewhat non-cliché.

Now, to those lawyers with way too much free time on their hands- I own nothing of this story except what few things I might come up with all by myself, so bugger off!

Now, for chapter nine, may it be up to your reading standards.

* * *

&

* * *

Found: One Mole

The forest outside of Haven City, with its prehistoric ruins, held the appearance of a calm, tranquil place, especially during the brief transition from dusk to night. However, that false sense of peace was shattered by the cries of bestial fury that echoed through the trees.

Bellowing in rage, the Ram charged at the demon. However, the creature was not unprepared, and vaulted backwards, unleashing a stream of Dark Eco lightning upon the massive Metal Head.

Daxter watched it all from the relative safety of a large tree branch, having been wise enough to realize that a person as vertically challenged as he stood a very good chance of being trampled into an Ottsel pancake like those Grunts that had been attacking them.

It had seemed simple enough, wander around these Precursor ruins, find those three artifacts that Onin and bird-brain had wanted, and head back, where he would catch a nap and Jak would doubtless think of a way to get vengeance on his two nemeses.

It would have been nice if the old seer had gone to the trouble to warn them that this place was swarming with Metal Heads, more specifically, swarming with Metal Heads the size of an Eco Hauler. It had come out of nowhere, and sent Jak flying _through_ a tree as he had been attempting to cut a few Grunts down to size. Instantly, the dark elf had felt his inner demon rise, rushing to protect its host.

Jak had been confused. The beast had seemed almost frantic to come to his aid, and something deep down, told him it had not just been in the interest of self-preservation. Could it be, he thought as he watched the battle, bound within his own mind, that his earlier premonition had been correct? That the creature was actually protecting him out of a sense of loyalty? As a croca-dog would protect its master?

Such were his thoughts as his inner demon once again leapt out of the way of the rampaging monster, before focusing its powers again, this time into the shadowy ball of energy that Daxter had termed a "Dark Bomb." It crashed into the side of their assailant, exploding with the force of a score of grenades, and ending the battle then and there.

As swiftly as it had come to his rescue, the creature withdrew, leaving its host once more in full control of his actions. The former Channeler stood where he was, his breath visible in the winter air, and his body soaked in sweat despite the chill of the season. As Daxter came down from his hiding place and scrambled back up onto his left shoulder, Jak walked over to retrieve his weapons. The morph-gun was undamaged, thankfully, however, it was Kitetsu that truly held his attention. His enhanced vision could tell, even in the darkness, that the ground around the katana was blackened, charred, and the blade itself was warm to the touch. Puzzled, the dark elf stared at the weapon, wondering what to make of this.

Abruptly, he sheathed the sword, and looked at the cave that the Ram had come charging out of. With the sun down, it was only a matter of time before the temperature dropped to sub freezing temperatures. Jak knew, that unlike ninety nine point nine percent of the general population, the experimentation done to him would give him a fairly good shot of surviving the exposure for even an extended period of time, but the same could not be said of Daxter, who was already shivering now that the adrenaline had left his system. The cave would provide sufficient shelter in all likelihood, and possibly even some cover from the equally hostile local animal life.

* * *

At the same time that Jak was eating some cold rations and Daxter was huddled up in his coat for warmth, Ashelin was sneaking through the back streets of Haven City. The K.G. lieutenant was being cautious, ducking in an out of the shadowy alleys and looking over her shoulder every so often to ensure that she wasn't being followed. Tucked into her vest pocket was a pair of discs, one filled with vital information on both the Dark Warrior Project, while the other held files on something else that her father and his right hand sociopath were cooking up.

It wasn't much further to the meeting point, where Torn would be waiting for her. This would be where it was most dangerous, as the K.G. patrols could easily discover them if they were careless. Her eyes looking for the slightest disturbance in the shadows, the lieutenant backed into the cover that was provided by an alley.

* * *

Torn was doing much the same thing, creeping through the opaque blackness of the shadows. It was all so inherently familiar to him, no different from the countless missions he'd served in under King Damas. He only thing that bothered him had been the urgency in Ashelin's voice when she'd contacted him and told him to meet her on the edge of the Industrial District of the city. As far as his ever calculating mind was able to tell that meant one of two things, either she'd stumbled onto something big, or her position had been compromised and the jig was up.

Abruptly, he tensed. There it was again, the sound of a Krimzon Guard patrol moving in his direction. Cursing himself for his getting lost in his thoughts when he should have been paying more attention, the Underground soldier turned around to leap back into the alley he'd come out of, only to see the point man of the patrol as they came from the next street.

"Speaking of jig's being up." he growled to himself.

There was a curfew instilled, had been for weeks now, so he'd have had about a snowball's chance in Hell of being mistaken for a civilian, even if he hadn't been sporting his makeshift armor, knives, and his morph-gun. Then of course, there were the long odds that someone would understand the markings on his face, damning evidence of what he had been, and in some ways, still was.

He bolted into the alley even as the point man brought up his rifle. However, it was a dead end, and climbing out, while a possibility, would take too long. This left only one option: fight.

He heard the clanking of the troops' armor as they approached the alley, and pulled back into the darkness, while at the same time unsheathing both his curved dagger, and another, this one straight and balanced for throwing. By that time, they had arrived, and he could see them pointing their guns down the dark corridor.

"Call for back up." one of them, presumably the ranking officer of the small squadron, barked to another.

"Back up?" the younger, and probably more inexperienced K.G. asked, his tone one of bafflement, "Sarge, are you sure that's necessary? I mean, it's only one Underground rebel."

"Don't question my orders, rookie!" the sergeant snarled. "Didn't you see the marks on his face? That rebel was a Delta!"

Torn allowed a bit of surprise to work its way into his mind. So this sergeant, did, know what the tattoos on his face marked him as. With that knowledge, also came a raw, searing hatred, as he realized what else that meant.

"A Delta, I thought they were all wiped out in the coup." one of the other squad members said in a voice filled with awe.

"Yeah, well apparently we missed one!" the sergeant remarked before turning his head back towards the rookie he had been addressing earlier. "Now, stop stalling and call for reinfor…"

Knowledgeable as he was, the sergeant had still underestimated Torn's abilities. He had made a fatal error as he had turned his gaze away from the alley that the Underground fighter had been hiding in. Those under his command watched, horrified, as a throwing knife seemed to just materialize in his throat. The trooper dropped his rifle, and brought his hands to the dagger, as if by pulling it out of his windpipe he could somehow save his life.

Just the distraction Torn needed. Like a blitzing linebacker, the rebel shot out of his hiding place, grabbing one K.G. soldier before the others had realized what was going on, and spinning him around, using the unfortunate Guard like a human shield. In the brief instant the rest of the patrol spent wondering what to do regarding this situation, the ex-Delta brought his curved dagger up, and cut the elf he was holding open from groin to sternum. Not pausing for even a moment, he spun about, reaching down to rip the throwing knife out of the patrol leader's throat as the sergeant hit his knees, before throwing it yet again, sinking it up to the haft in another trooper's chest, while the one that was closest to him received a first hand introduction to his left foot. The last surviving member of the patrol watched in disbelief as his comrade's face was caved in. With reflexes honed by years of training and actual combat, Torn rushed over to the other K.G. that he had skewered and once more retrieved his throwing dagger.

Before tossing it right into the hand of the last patrol member, and more importantly, the radio he had been fumbling with. The elf screeched in pain, before looking back into the ex-Delta's eyes, which were burning with some feral hatred. It was then that the rookie soldier noticed something else as well: the gun that Torn had strapped across his back. This guy had had a rifle, but had taken out his comrades and his patrol leader with nothing more than a pair of knives.

Torn noticed the stare, and he pulled the stricken guard close placing the curved blade against his exposed throat.

"Too noisy." the Underground commander hissed at him, before swiping the dagger across his throat.

The ex-Delta looked about, briefly admiring the carnage he had just unleashed. Greatest of all had been the death of that unnamed sergeant, one less back-stabbing bastard drawing air. However, his training did not allow for this small sense of victory to cloud his senses, and Torn realized that even if the trooper hadn't gotten off a distress call that he'd have, at most, twenty minutes before the central command realized the patrol hadn't reported in.

A fast as he could, Torn grabbed the bodies, one at a time, and hauled them off into the alley and out of sight.

* * *

For several minutes, she waited in the darkness, wondering where in the Precursor's name the tattooed resistance member was supposed to be. For a few brief moments, the dark thought entered her head that something might have gone wrong. On cue, the rhythmic marching of a patrol reached her ears, and she ducked down behind a few old barrels of waste. As she hunkered down, she forced herself to banish the thoughts of Torn being captured while trying to link up with her. He was far too smart for that, far too crafty, which was to say nothing of the training that he had been through during his own time in the Guard. He'd been in the armed forces back before her father's coup-d-etat' had abruptly taken the rule away from the Queen. Worried as she was, Ashelin knew that the normal Krimzon Guard members traveled in patrols of about half a dozen, give or take a couple of elves. Which against a former Praetorian Guard like Torn, especially one that had belong the Delta Squadron, would be piss-poor odds for them.

Abruptly, she felt something tap her on her right shoulder. She spun around, and saw nothing, only to hear a slight crunch come from the pavement in front of her. Barely suppressing a growl at the acrobatic performance she had just been the victim of, she slowly turned back around, and saw the resistance fighter standing not five feet from her.

"About time you showed up," she hissed at him, her voice barely above a whisper, "what took you so long?"

"I ran into a little bit of trouble." he answered, his voice having its usual harsh edge.

"What kind of trouble?" she asked, even though deep down she was fairly certain that she already knew the answer.

"Let's just say that sometime tomorrow, your father's going to be receiving a report about a quintet of K.G. that were found cut open in a back alley." he told her, a grim smile making its way over his face as he fingered the blades on his waist.

Ashelin mused for a moment over a possibility of her having some sort of gift of foresight like Onin, before her friend snapped her back to reality.

"So, what was so important that you called me away from planning the biggest raid we've done in six months?" he inquired.

"You remember back at the pumping station, when Jak…" she trailed off, unable to summon up the words to describe what the dark elf had done.

"Yeah, what about his little anger problem?" the Underground commander asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"I did what he told me to do," she responded, pulling out the disk that had his file on it "I found this." She finished, extending it towards him.

"What is it?" he asked, taking it from her hand.

"Every single bit of data regarding the Dark Warrior Project, from its conception to information on test subjects. Jak's file is number twenty six." she told him, pausing for a brief instant before withdrawing the second one from her pocket as well. "This one's got schematics for some type of combat droid that Errol and my father have been cooking up, thought you might want to have a look at them too."

Torn said nothing, but merely nodded his head and took them from her, before walking past her and jumping up, where he latched onto a fire escape ladder that had been dangling about six feet off the ground.

"So that's how he did it." the K.G. lieutenant mused to herself, realizing now how Torn had gotten behind her.

Before her contact had made his way back up out of sight, he turned his gaze back to her, his eyes locking with her own.

"Ashelin, take care of yourself." he ordered, but she did not miss the slight waver in his normally steel-hard voice.

She nodded an affirmative before heading back towards the palace. With any luck, she'd be back before anyone had even figured out that she was missing.

What both she and the Underground soldier did not see was the tiny, floating observation driod that had been hiding in the very back of the alley.

* * *

It was some time later that the hardened commander quietly entered the private sanctuary. The Shadow was in a lotus position, his breathing deep and even. Around him, were various different flora that Torn had seen him look after with such care. The result showed in the life that these plants radiated, so different from the cold and dead feeling that the city itself seemed to possess.

Seeing that his leader was in a very deep meditation, Torn debated within himself, pondering the wisdom of disturbing his superior, versus the urgency of what Ashelin had given him. Eventually, that urgency won out over common sense, and the commander walked over to where the Shadow sat. Carefully, he placed his hand upon the elf's shoulder, and shook gently. Instantly, the older elf bolted awake, and turned to gaze at him.

"Torn, you know better than to interrupt one of my meditations." he told the commander with a frown.

"I know, Sir, but Ashelin just delivered these to me," he responded, holding up the data disks, "and I thought you had better take a look at them."

"What's on them?" the elf asked, his voice still holding a bit of irritation in it.

"Top secret files on a couple of projects the Baron's been working on." Torn answered, his tone respectful.

"Very well then, let's see them." the Shadow said, stepping briskly out of his meditation chamber, and into a more conventional command room.

Torn hurriedly went over to a consol, and inserted the first data disk, the one with all the information on the Dark Warrior Project. The file was uploaded, and the information that was stored on it began to be displayed across the large central computer screen. The Shadow's eyes darted rapidly back and forth, absorbing all of the theories and experiments, before shaking his head in disgust.

"What they are talking about is an impossibility, it can't be done." the Underground leader stated, his voice laced with bitter resignation as he stared at all the "volunteers" list. "Those lives were wasted, those people murdered."

"Not entirely true, Sir." Torn told him, before opening Jak's file.

As it had been with Ashelin, the first thing that shocked and infuriated the Shadow was the age at which the boy had been indoctrinated, and the various different "disciplines" that had been unleashed upon him, chalking them up as additions to his already long list of "reasons to overthrow current despotic regime." However, he quickly returned to reality, and realized what Torn had told him.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice deathly quiet.

"This one's still alive, Sir, and he's working with us." Torn responded gravely.

The Shadow heard what he said, while at the same time he read through the boy's file in great detail, doing a double take when he read the part about Jak being a Channeler. However, an endnote mentioning the apparent loss of the teenager's Channeling abilities dashed the older elf's hopes before they even got off the ground.

"So all their "experiment" did was rob the world of yet another Channeler while making that kid's life a hell." the Underground leader spat.

Torn frowned, and tried to calculate the best way to break his first hand knowledge to his commanding officer. Eventually, he settled on the way he did it most of the time: no sugar coating, just the straight, harsh and brutal truth.

"Actually, Sir…" he began, before launching off into his tale of Jak's unique "abilities."

* * *

Ashelin walked down the corridor to her private quarters, her posture relaxed and at ease. She had gotten back without so much as having to hide out in an alley again, and now she finally allowed herself to calm down. Ironic really, that the one place she should be most on guard for people watching her was just the place where she felt the safest from prying eyes.

"You're up a little late, aren't you?" came a snide voice from behind her.

The K.G. lieutenant whirled around, her twin pistols clearing their holsters while a pair of clicks testified to the safeties being switched off. Not even batting an eye at the two guns that were currently leveled at his heart, Commander Errol stared back at her, leaning calmly against the wall of the hallway.

"A little jumpy too, I see. Too much caffeine, Ashelin?" he inquired with a smirk, before shaking his finger in a chiding way. "You know that's not healthy."

"Do that again, Errol, and I swear by my father I will make sure that you never have children!" the daughter of Praxis growled, lowering her weapons and returning them to their holsters.

"My sincerest apologies, lieutenant," Errol retorted with a mocking bow, "but as your father's second in command, it is up to me to look out for your safety. I shudder to think what might happen to me if anything were to become of you."

Ashelin just shot him a look, before heading for her room. However, as she turned the corner, a most wicked smile came over the face of the Krimzon Guard leader.

"Yes, it is my responsibility to watch out for you, Ashelin, though I wonder what will happen when daddy finds out that his little girl has been having midnight rendezvous with that despicable little Underground member." he muttered, before cackling in a clichéd and villainous way.

* * *

The Shadow sat down, and rubbed his eyes wearily, as if he had just pulled a double shift on guard duty. It was a lot of information to take in at once, being told not only of this fiendish experimentation, which was little more than murder with a fancy scientific spin on it, then the knowledge that one of the people, a Channeler no less, had survived the horrific testing, and was now a member of the resistance. To top it off, said Underground member apparently had something inside of him that gave a whole new definition to the term "inner demon."

"And that's pretty much it." Torn said, clasping his hands behind his back.

"By the Precursors." the Shadow muttered, before staring up at the ex-Delta. "If anyone else had told me that, I have summed it up as shell shock and ordered them put on support duty."

"I know it's hard to believe, Sir, but it is the truth." Torn stated, mentally recalling the unforgettable images of the creature as it rampaged its way through the Metal Heads "That…thing…took on fifty of those monsters, and wiped them out like they were nothing."

Before anymore could be said, there was a knock upon the door. Torn looked at the Shadow, and his superior nodded. The tattooed fighter then strode over, and opened up the door, revealing it to be none other than Kor.

"What is it?" Torn asked, his voice once again harsh as it ever was.

"It's Prince Alex, Torn." the old elf responded.

"What about him?" the Shadow inquired, his tone indicating that he was worried about their charge.

"I'm not entirely sure, but I do believe that he has had a nightmare of some sort, possibly some memory from that day sprang into his mind again." Kor told him, leaning heavily on his staff.

Torn sighed, and looked over to the Shadow once again, his eyes asking for permission to take his leave. The Underground leader nodded once more, and the commander started out the door. However, he paused briefly just before he left.

"By the way, old man," he said, waiting for Kor to face him before continuing, "when were going to let the rest of us in on your private joke?"

"I beg your pardon?" Kor asked, genuinely confused.

"You told us that Jak took out a two dozen elf patrol with his bare hands." Torn said, his tone accusing. "When were you planning on adding the part about the five inch claws that had been attached at the time?" he said as he gestured up to Jak's profile

"I though it would perhaps be best for him to come forward with that on his own, it seemed a rather personal thing, after all." the wizened elf replied with a shrug of his frail shoulders.

Torn merely shook his head and growled, before heading off in the direction of the young monarch's room, his hearing barely registering the Shadow's order to "keep this quiet."

* * *

When he finally arrived, Alexander was there, his eyes wide with fright, staring blankly at the wall. However, once the boy heard the clanking of Torn's boots upon the metal floor of his room, he swiveled about. As usual, he said nothing, but a hopeful look came over him as he stared at the Underground commander, as if Torn was the very person who could banish the monsters from his nightmares back to where they belonged.

Torn just gave a weak smile to the boy, and sat down next to him, while at the same time being careful not to awaken the sleeping croca-dog at the foot of the bed. Almost immediately, the young prince threw his arms around the tattooed elf, hugging him like he was an elder sibling. The hardened warrior blanched inwardly, and it took every ounce of willpower that he had not to recoil.

Somehow, Torn had never been able to figure out why, his mere presence always seemed to be able to calm the child down. And before long, the young boy was once again asleep, in a realm where the Baron's despotic regime could not harm him. Watching him, Torn sighed bitterly. This was a job that should have been his mother's, or his father's. But, little Alex didn't have either of those, now.

And it was all because of him. He had failed those he had sworn to protect, those that he should have given his own life to save.

As he always did when he thought of those times, Torn let his gaze wander down to his left leg, and let his hand trace it. He felt just above his kneecap, where living tissue and nerve abruptly became metal and cold circuitry, a painful reminder of just one of the many prices he'd paid for his inabilities.

"Why?" he suddenly asked the sleeping child. "Why are you looking to me to protect you? I'm the reason you're here right now…so why?"

* * *

&

* * *

Okay, glad that's over with, now if my writers block would just go back to whatever hell it crawled out of, maybe I could write something with a little better quality to it.

Once again, I hope I'm not getting Torn too OOC here, with all these different sides to him that I keep showing. And I promise to go into more detail on where he's coming from in the story.

To all of you who are still reading, I would like to ask for you to please let me know how I am doing with this, as feedback and constructive criticism helps me improve, so I can write better stories in the future. Also, please leave me any ideas that you might have, I would be happy to hear about them.

Thanks, and have a great day.


	10. From: The Underground, To: Baron Praxis

Hello once again people. Man, school just will not stop in its quest to drive me over the edge into the dark pit known as insanity. Matter of fact, I think I am already starting to hear voices in my head. At any rate, I did manage to get this thing done, though once again I shall leave it up to you people to judge the quality of my work, or the possible lack thereof.

To those of you kind enough to review the work of this amatuer.

**Light Eco Sage-** Haha, loved the Shrek quote, and while I must say that blood and gore can be highly entertaining, not to mention a very good stress reliever from time to time, one can overdo it, so please let me know if I start to get close to that point.

**Every Heart Bleeds- **True, if the game had these scenes, I wouldn't exactly be able to write this without it being a cheap knockoff of the gaming script, but on the bright side, people would actually be able to play it whenever they wanted. As far as writer's block is concerned, I must admit that it is an evil only Satan himself could have come up with. (growls softly)

**Something Stupid-** Actually, Torn himself explains why he didn't shoot them. He was trying to be stealthy, so as not to jeopordize Ashelin, hence why he opted for the use of knives rather than the gun strapped on his back. And, without giving away too much of a subplot (hopefully), I'm going to say that Torn was involved with an elite black ops squadron, which why he is so skilled with weapons such as that in the first place. I realize that this probably is a little OOC for him, but other than that, I do hope that you enjoyed the chapter.

**Lunatic Pandora1- **I have read a few of those myself, and those are one of the reasons that actually inspired me to write this one up. While there is no doubt that some of them are quite good, I got a little tired of Dark Jak always being the same thing, so I wanted to try and present a different possibility. As for the different scenes I've created, I always thought there was so much squandered opportunity in the second game to go more into the background and such from the other characters, so I'm trying to add my own twist on things.

**Shakai- **Glad that you liked it, and expect to see more of Jak, as I am going to enjoy torturing him very much. (grins wickedly)

Now, legal crap.

Attention all blood sucking vermin using frivolous lawsuits to hide just how petty and pathetic they are, I own nothing of these characters whatsoever, so back, back to whatever pit you crawled out from!

(clears throat)

Okay, now that I have officially made a complete idiot out of myself, here is the next chapter, and hopefully it'll be worth your time.

* * *

&

* * *

From: The Underground, To: Baron Praxis

Jak grumbled as he paced towards the garage. He hadn't even been back from retrieving those three artifacts for Onin for more than thirty minutes, and he'd already been conscripted into another task. One would think that after spending nearly sixty hours up in the mountain forests, combing through Precursor ruins at temperatures hovering right around zero, and hacking, blasting, and otherwise fragging his was through a small army of Metal Heads, he might actually be given some time off to get some much needed rest.

"But, noooooo," he growled audibly, "we can't have that, can we now?"

It seemed that the very instant he had stumbled back through the door, Torn had descended upon him, and the next thing he and Daxter knew, they had been shanghaied into this little raid that the Underground had been planning to launch for some time now.

Of course, the dark elf thought to himself, there was absolutely nothing little about this raid. That thought was reinforced as the side of the garage wall suddenly opened and a pair of zoomers, one of them a remade transport, left the base. Torn hadn't told him much, saying that he would fill the former Channeler in on the details while the strike force was en-route, but he did know that this little raid would involve no less than twenty vehicles, a new record for the Underground.

He heard a piercing whistle above the noise of the garage, and the Eco infused elf turn to see Torn and a few other resistance members sitting in the back of a transport. The Underground commander motioned for him to come over and hop in, and Jak begrudgingly did so.

As he sat down inside of the transport, he looked around at the occupants. Torn was on his right, and across from him was another elf, a female who he actually recognized. A gaze to his shoulder revealed that Daxter had taken notice of the girl as well, as his glazed over look was a dead giveaway of what the Ottsel was thinking about. Briefly, the dark elf wondered whether or not his furry companion realized that it was the same girl who had nearly strangled him when they had first found the Underground base.

A few more elves piled in, before the rear hatch closed. The former Chaneler let his gaze travel towards the front of the ship as it lurched and its repulsor lifts rumbled. Imagine his surprise, when he found a pair of gold and black eyes staring back at him. It took every ounce of willpower that he possessed not to instinctively draw his weapons, as he realized just how close he was to a Lurker.

Apparently, while managing to keep his gun and Kitetsu safely within their respective sheathes, he had not been able to repress a shudder, as Torn took notice of him.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"Just had some bad experiences with Lurkers," the dark elf whispered out of the side of his mouth, before hastily adding, "a few of the wild ones that aren't too happy about the elven enslavement policy."

This caused the hardened commander to chuckle, a rare sound to hear from him.

"Don't mind Brutter," he told the former Channeler, "he's pretty even tempered as far as Lurkers go, and I for one, have come to rely on him."

"What for?" Jak asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"A lot of things." Torn replied with a shrug of his shoulders "Lurkers can get into places where our resistance soldiers can't, plus, he's not bad in a firefight."

Brutter had apparently overheard their little side conversation, and while the Lurker may not have said anything, he did break into a wide smile, baring his large teeth.

"So what are we doing today?" Jak said, changing the subject abruptly.

"It's pretty straight forward." the Underground commander responded, glancing at a watch he had on. "The Krimzon Guard is moving a large convoy through the Wasteland. In about five or so hours, they're going to come across a canyon that will force the convoy into a narrow file." Torn told him, staring into Jak's eyes, before smacking his fist into his open palm. "That's where we hit em, hard. We're going to swoop down, catch em with their pants down, and wipe them out before they even know their being attacked. Leaving us with the spoils and Praxis with nothing but coal in his stocking."

"What's the convoy carrying?" the former Channeler inquired.

"Just about anything you could think of." Torn replied with a shrug of his shoulders. "Eco, weapons and munitions, food supplies, and there's a transport filled with captured Lurkers in it somewhere."

The last addition caused something between a pain filled moan and an angry growl to come from Brutter.

"So, I guess it's safe to assume that it's going to be pretty heavily guarded." the dark elf mused aloud.

"Yeah, that's why we're getting in place so early, we need to set everything up." Torn responded.

"What do you mean?" Jak inquired, cocking his head to the side.

"I'll explain later." was the ex-Delta's mysterious reply.

* * *

"Come on, people, let's move it, we're on a tight schedule here!" the tattooed commander exclaimed, working furiously to attach a canopy to one of the modified zoomers. They may have arrived into position about three hours before the convoy was scheduled to turn up at their location, but they still had a lot of work to do to prep their attack craft. 

The zoomers themselves had originally been medium sized two seaters, with an open flatbed in the back for hauling whatever supplies a civilian might need. However, the Underground had done quite a bit of enhancing to the hovercrafts, not the least of which had been tearing out the side passenger seat and replacing it with some radically advanced, and very much illegal, electronic equipment that ranged from radar and radio jammers, to in the case of a few, a firing mechanism for a pair of limited tracking air to air stinger missiles. They had also had their engines and airfoils modified, giving them incredible speed and maneuverability that nearly equaled a K.G. speeder bike.

Which was to say nothing about what was attached to their rears, which Jak and Tess were currently in the process of attaching. In the flatbed of each zoomer, was a massive, tri barreled energy gun. The weapon had apparently successfully completed its "testing" phase, and now stood ready to be unleashed upon the Krimzon Guard. The dark elf couldn't help but feel a bit of admiration for whatever genius had thought this baby up. Capable of unleashing an awesome six hundred rounds a minute, the M-41 Light Anti-Aircraft Gun, or vulcan, as their enigmatic maker had termed it, had stopping power that would enable it, at least in theory, to tear through even a mighty Hellcat cruiser with enough sustained fire. The LAAG was mounted on a swivel platform that had already been installed upon the selected craft, and came complete with a computerized H.U.D. that displayed a targeting reticule, ammo readings, and a readout on the amount of heat that the weapon was producing. The latter of which worked in tandem with a failsafe device programmed into the gun's internal mechanisms which would initiate an emergency shutdown of the power supply in the event of the weapon reaching a critical heat level, whereupon the user would have to wait for the LAAG to cool before being able to fire again. It also came with a safety harness, which like the newly installed canopies on the front of the craft did for the pilot, would prevent the gunner from being pitched out of the vehicle in the event of a hard turn or a barrel roll.

For which the Eco infused elf was quite grateful, as he had been assigned to hold such a position, and he had no desire to test out his enhanced healing factor against the rocky walls and ground the soon to be war zone. He and Tess secured the last anchor for the anti-aircraft gun, and gave it an experiment spin. It rotated about with deceptive ease, bringing that grim smile to the face of the dark elf, and he briefly entertained visions of the Krimzon Guard's reactions as they realized they were on the business end of this very intimidating and no doubt very lethal weapon.

In fact, the only thing that truly had Jak worried about these fast attack craft, was their lack of armor plating. A few pieces of titanium-A had been welded on in the past couple of hours, but at best, that would only stop the attacks from a K.G. speeder bike. The former Channeler realized then the true danger of this mission, for if a Hellcat caught one of these zoomers in its quad-blaster sights, the only consolation the Underground members aboard would have would be that death would be so neigh instantaneous they would likely not have time to feel it.

* * *

Soon enough, the dark elf felt a vibration seeping through his boots, and a low rumble reached the ears of all present. It was show time. 

"All right, people," Torn spoke up, looking at each and everyone involved in the raid, "let's go over this one more time. We're going to wait until they enter the canyon, and once they're where we want them, we take out the point and rear guards." He said before pivoting and pointing to Tess and a handful of other resistance soldiers. "Those of you with jamming devices, activate them as soon as my squad gets our missiles in the air, we can't afford to let them let the Baron know that this thing's under attack, or you'd better believe that half of the entire K.G. will be diving down on our heads before we even realize it." the tattooed commander then paused, staring around at those under his command. "As for the rest of you, the Hellcats take top targeting priority, make sure you bring them down before they get a chance to start lining us up or the only thing left of us is going to be craters of flaming wreckage." he ordered, his voice deadly serious.

The Underground soldiers nodded, and went to their respective vehicles. Torn just stared after them. How many? How many would not return, how many would die? However, the commander was quick to banish those thoughts. He was a soldier, and death was part of the job, as was being willing to sacrifice those under your command to get the job done. Wordlessly, he marched over and strapped himself into the gunner position of one craft, while Brutter climbed into the pilot area.

Jak and Tess were doing much the same thing, although the bond haired elf had been gracious enough to allow Daxter to strap himself in with her up in the cockpit of their own craft. Jak was grateful for this, as it would mean less danger for the Ottsel, and the fact that being so close to female had apparently caused the furry rodent to not engage in his usual chickening out attempts. Smiling grimly once again, the dark elf put a helmet on, and made certain hat the boom mike attached was working properly before putting himself in the safety harness.

* * *

The Krimzon Guard piloting the lead craft sighed to himself, wishing that this boring mission was over with. Oh, there was no doubt that his job was an important one, as the convoy that he and his comrades were watching over was carrying enough supplies to keep and entire division in working order for almost a month, but that didn't exactly make it exciting. After all, with a grand total of seven Hellcats and nearly three dozen speeder bikes, he felt safe in assuming that even the Metal Heads would keep a healthy distance from them. 

Thus he was more than a little surprised to suddenly hear a beeping sound come from his radar. Confused, he looked down towards it. The readouts were warning him about several objects streaking towards his craft at velocities exceeding three hundred miles per hour. Then, as if to add to the dilemma, static suddenly surged over the sensor, and it shorted out. Now very much worried, he went to key his mike and tell the rest of the escort team to prepare themselves for an attack. His mind had just registered the fact that something was shorting out his communication systems, when his world went white.

Those in the rest of the convoy watched in horror as first one, and then a second stinger slammed into the point guard cruiser, engulfing it in flames and cremating its three man crew. Seconds later, the rear guard and one other Hellcat near the center of the formation suffered the same fate. As their flaming chasses hit the ground, and chaos began to envelope the convoy, Eco streams from the LAAGs began to scythe through the airborne vehicles, causing further confusion. Still, within seconds, the highly disciplined Krimzon Guard got their own combat vehicles ready, with bikes speeding towards the Underground attackers, while the four remaining Hellcats turned their quad-blasters in the direction of their assailants.

"Good shooting, Brutter." Torn said into his helmet mike, earning him a thumbs up from the Lurker. Quickly as he could, Torn assessed the situation, before speaking again. "Rogue seven and eight, flank out and attack the repulsor lifts on the transports, make sure they stay put!" he commanded, and the respective craft rogered and broke formation, before beginning what would doubtlessly amount to a devastating attack run. "Tess, form up on my wing, I'm going to need your help to bring those monsters down."

"Gotcha." Tess said, her voice cool and calm despite the gravity of the situation.

A bike flew towards them, its blaster sending a stream of Red Eco towards Jak's craft. The dark elf retaliated with a four second burst from the vulcan. While not all of the shots hit, Jak still watched in satisfaction as the bike and its K.G. pilot seemed to be vaporized when the thirty odd bolts impacted upon it. Not to long thereafter, another bike met a similar fate. All the while, the former Channeler was aware of his inner demon watching through his eyes, snarling over its apparent helplessness, before, if what he was sensing was correct, resigning itself to observing the situation, and more importantly, apparently learning from it.

However, marvelous as this apparently was, Jak did not have time to dwell upon it, as when he had destroyed the bikes, he had inadvertently attracted the attention of another cruiser in addition to the one they were streaking towards. Within seconds, Tess' skillful piloting was the only thing keeping their craft from being turned into their funeral pyre. More blasts streaked towards them, one so close that Jak found himself instinctively ducking as it streaked overhead. Fortunately for them, Torn and Brutter bailed them out, coming in hard and unloading upon one of the cruisers before banking off to one side, directing the gunship's attention away from them, and effectively putting a stop to the murderous crossfire.

Growling, Jak stood back up, lining the cruiser up in his sights, grinning wickedly as the targeting reticule turned red, indicating that he was within firing range. With hesitation, he opened up, the LAAG generating its high pitched whine as it spewed out a blue stream of energy. The blasts streaked forward and hit the Hellcat dead on, but while bits and pieces of the armor flaked off or was reduced to molten slag, it held for the most part, and the cruiser pivoted about, strafing and turning as best it could, returning the favor with every gun it had at its disposal.

The dark elf winced as Daxter's screaming practically blew out his eardrums, but did not stop his barrage until a warbling from his vulcan grabbed his attention. Quickly, he realized what he had done, and released the trigger to allow for the LAAG to begin its cool-down routine, cursing himself for getting so sucked into the firefight that he allowed it to overheat, thereby rendering the weapon useless until it once again reached a safe operating temperature.

The Hellcat cruiser, on the other hand, with its massive quad blaster, auxiliary point defense cannons, and twin side mounted guns, had no such problem, and kept up its own assault. More blasts streaked by, nearly clipping an engine of the assault speeder, and causing Tess to barrel roll to one side before pulling the more maneuverable craft into a tight bank to their right side, actually brining the vehicle up along the canyon walls.

Rock shards exploded all around them as Eco came within a hairsbreadth of ending their existence once and for all. Still, despite the close proximity of the blasts, and the combination of fervent prayers and expletives from the furry rodent strapped in with her, the blond haired elf managed to keep cool, and continued to pull off evasive maneuvers that would have made any senior military official proud.

Unfortunately, that could not be said for all of the pilots, as a flash of light caught the corner of Jak's eye, which when followed by a long burst of static, meant it could have been nothing else but a fatal shot to the craft of one of the Undergrounds attack zoomers. Not five seconds later, two more brave souls left the mortal coil. The dark elf growled, while the creature within himself howled in rage. They were going to be exterminated if they didn't find a way to ground those gunships permanently. A snarl of frustration burst from Jak's lips as he glued his eyes to the H.U.D. readout on his vulcan, waiting for the weapon to fall back into an acceptable temperature.

Finally, after what seemed like eternity and a day, but was in all actuality a mere fifteen seconds since he had over heated it, the LAAG cooled sufficiently, and its failsafe deactivated. Immediately, he pulled the trigger, this time firing in rapid, quick succession bursts. Once again, he could see that he was doing damage, as several inches of armor separated itself from the Hellcat, but not enough to mortally wound it. Another burst of fire came in, and once more, Jak felt himself unable to stop himself from instinctively ducking in his harness. The bolts did come close though, and in fact, if Daxter's hearing destroying scream was correct, one had actually grazed their cockpit, leaving an angry red glow on a part of it. Ironically, that shot would prove to be the demise of the Eco infused elf's adversary.

"The canopy!" he exclaimed, at last realizing a potential Achilles' heel on the mighty gunship.

Without hesitation, he adjusted his gun's angle, aiming for the piloting area, and jammed down on the trigger for his M-41. Needless to say, the pilot and his crew were quite surprised for the entire one and a half or so seconds that their canopy held, before the stream crashed through and eviscerated them. Jerking in his death throes, the K.G. caused the doomed ship to nose dive straight into the ground, whereupon in created a nice sized crater.

Meanwhile, Torn and Brutter were having their own time trying to bring down on of the gunships, though they seemed to be fairing a little better than most. Torn's fire was accurate to the point were the tattooed commander had even managed to take care of the cruiser's point defense cannons, and the fact that he was still in the air, despite the massive barrage coming his way, was a testament to Brutter's uncanny pilot skills. The Lurker suddenly yanked back on the controls, sending the craft into a steep upward climb that rapidly turned into a summersault, placing the more nimble craft behind the K.G. behemoth. The ex-Delta smiled grimly as his H.U.D. sight indicated that he had a lock on, and pulled the trigger.

The storm of Eco that was unleashed upon the gunship would go unanswered until the quad-turret could manage to pivot itself around and reach the Underground assault craft, and by that time, Brutter had already swung the two of them out to the left side of the Hellcat, where the Underground commander continued his assault, red armor being reduced to slag from the firepower of his vulcan. However, that was not to say that they were home free, as the pilot did some mental calculations on the laws of physics, and promptly decided to attempt to ram the Hellcat up against Torn's craft. Needless to say, while the multi-ton cruiser might have suffered some damage to its paint job, the same could not be said for the Underground attack zoomer. It was all Brutter could do to maintain control of the speeder and keep it from being smashed against the rocks. Even so, one side of the craft was practically ripped away, and both the Lurker and the Underground commander realized that even if, by some miracle, they lived through this, their craft was more than likely never going to be involved in another raid.

The K.G. pilot veered his ship out again, preparing to repeat the tactic, only to have another speeder come racing in straight at it, its pilot and gunner trying to distract the Hellcat and allow for their commander to get away from his now very vulnerable position. However, Torn watched, absolutely helpless, as the quad cannons caught his comrades straight in the fuel tank, and consumed the vehicle in a small nova. Rage filled him, as he saw more of those he was responsible for die. For a brief instant memories flashed through his head, and he remembered his squad, all of them. He remembered the coup, the last time he saw any of them alive.

"Not this time." the tattooed commander growled, cold anger etched into every syllable.

Once more, he opened up, his LAAG spewing out Eco as if there was no tomorrow, while in an effort to evade any form of counter attack, Brutter abruptly switched tactics, bringing his speeder underneath the larger vessel.

Getting down on his knees and pointing the vulcan as close to straight up as he could get it, Torn fired once again. While by no means the soft underbelly of a mythical being, the Hellcat still had some vulnerabilities below it. Brutter, now having realized that not having its point defenses to assist it made the large gunship completely helpless against an assault from underneath, used his ship's superior maneuverability to stay low, while his commander did a very fine job of turning the cruiser's armor into swiss cheese. Then, by sheer dumb luck, a bolt managed to sever the primary power coupling between the ships engines and its fuel tanks. Naturally, without its engines and repulsors to keep it in the air, gravity was swift in claiming the Hellcat, so swift in fact, that the rear of Torn's speeder was nearly ripped away by the plummeting vessel.

This left two Hellcat cruisers and a handful of speeder bikes against the Underground's forces. In the case of the bikes, the rebels were quick to capitalize on the superior firepower afforded them by their rear mounted LAAGs, and the bikes were soon being turned into fireworks. As for the two remaining gunships, the Underground circled and attacked them as a pack of wolves would attack a giant bull moose, chipping away at their defenses while their three or four to one odds made it difficult for the K.G. gunners manning the rotating quad turret to keep up with a single target.

Finally, trailing smoke and fire, the two gunships smashed into the ground. Control of the air, and the day itself, belonged to the resistance. Whoops of victory were soon echoing back and forth over the comm. channel, while they dove towards the crippled transports, whose own guards had already been dealt with, courtesy of the two speeders that had kept them from getting away.

* * *

The surviving resistance soldiers were quick and efficient, moving at a rapid pace to unload everything from the captured convoy. Everyone had a job to do, and even Daxter had been conscripted into hauling away some of the smaller things. 

"Urrkk, so, heavy." the Ottsel grunted, trying to hoist a trio of pilfered ammunition packs in his scrawny arms.

"I'll trade out with you, if you'd like." came his compatriot's sardonic reply, as he hoisted a large box of MREs with relative ease.

"Oh sure, rub it in my face why don't you?" Daxter shot back in a perturbed voice, his limbs beginning to visibly shake from the effort of carrying the ten pounds of ammo.

Jak merely snorted, and reaching down, grabbed one of the packs from his friend, making it much easier for the foot and a half tall rodent to carry his load.

It was not long until everything had been loaded, and the assault craft stripped of their, canopies, equipment, guns, and makeshift armor. That, along with the supplies was loaded onto the Underground's own transports, the only exception being one that had been set aside for Brutter to use to ferry his captive people back to their homes with.

Torn stood at the cliff edge, surveying the damage that had been done. He knew that this would hurt the Baron's forces badly, and that someone was definitely going to be served up as a sacrificial lamb once he found out about this. Still, he was not able to smile. They had not escaped without their own losses. Three of their craft had been destroyed, while two more had been damaged so badly they would never fly again, and were currently being rigged up with C-4 to ensure that there wouldn't be enough of them left for Praxis to figure out what exactly had gone down here. But more importantly to him, was the loss of six brave people.

He knew that they knew that they were soldiers, and death was a very likely thing on these missions, but it didn't make it easier. It was so hard for him to get used to, after all, when he had been under Damas' command, he had taken pride that while wounds were somewhat commonplace, not a single member had ever been killed in action under his command, until the coup-d-etat' that is.

Sighing bitterly, he stood up, and offered a crisp, militarily precise salute to those that had fallen this day.

* * *

&

* * *

Well, there's the tenth chapter of this work, and I do hope you enjoyed it. Unfortunately, school is beginning to pile up on me, so my updates may not be quite as frequent as they used to be, but I have no intentions of letting this thing die, of that, you can be sure. 

When I finally do post the next chapter, we can expect to see a yuletide celebration among the Underground, as well as a showdown between our Channeler and one of his nemeses, and I'm pretty sure you can figure out who that is.

Please, feel free to send any ideas, comments, constructive critisms (I need to know how to make this better!), or if the modd strikes you, flames, to me. Also, remember to have a great day, no matter what happens.

* * *


	11. A Long Awaited Confrontation

Good day to you all. Well, I said that I didn't know when I would be able to get this chapter out, but I suppose that a burst of creativity can go a long way in helping one out in that department. To those of you kind enough to review.

**Lunatic Pandora1-**I appriciate that you like what I'm doing with Torn and the others, I just hope I don't take it too far and start making them OOC, (insert nervous laughter).

**Shakai- **One showdown, as promised, hope you like it. As for your other remarks, yes there will be some torture in a couple of up and coming chapters, and good luck on beating Jak 2, as it can be pretty frustrating at some points.

**Light Eco Sage-** Much as it pains me to admit this, school is something of a necessary evil, though there are times when I wonder when am I going to apply things such as derivatives and integrals in my life. Regardless of my woes, I'm glad that you liked the chapter, and I hope this one is just as enjoyable.

**TUG- **I'm glad you like what it is that I am trying to do with the other characters, and be sure to let me know if I start making them to OOC. As far as Brutter is concerned, he is one of the more ignored characters from the game, and I was trying to think of a good way to introduce him, so the idea of him being a Underground soldier on the side sorta appeal to me, and do I detect a sense of paranoia about what the Lurkers could be up to, hehe?

**Farr2rich**- Glad you like the story, and the one you're thinking of sounds pretty interesting. I'm not sure what you meant by screen name, and if its something to do with AOL, then I am afraid that I don't have it. As far as Kitetsu is concerned, that blade is the property of Team Ninja, so feel free to go ahead and use it. Best of luck to you, and thanks for reviewing.

**Something Stupid- **Once again, you manage to think of a new angle that hadn't occurred to me, and as a result, I feel like something of an idiot. Thanks to your suggestion, I went back and installed a suppressor mod on Jak's magnum, though I'm not certain if I managed to incorporate it successfully. Please let me know what you think, thanks.

To everyone else: I hope you enjoyed what you read, and what you continue to read.

To the devil's asso...I mean, um lawyers, I own nothing of these characters, so please, no suing.

Also, this chapter is quite obviously MUCH longer than anything I've managed to create before, so if there is a typo or something, I apologize in advance. I proofread this thing three times, but I can't shake the nagging feeling that I missed something.

At any rate, time for a showdown.

* * *

&

* * *

Long Awaited Confrontation

Though there was nothing short of a full scale blizzard roaring outside, the mood among those in the Underground base was quite jovial. It was, after all, yuletide, which when combined with the success of their raid last week, meant that just about everyone had a reason to celebrate.

However, while elves may have danced to the music that was playing, or chatted with one another near a small refreshment table, one person hovered back in the shadows, his body giving off a nearly palpable aura of solitude. Jak didn't mind the strange looks he got from others who wandered by, perhaps curious as to why the dark elf was not participating in the festivities.

The reason was simple enough, this party brought back some very bitter sweet memories. The last time he had celebrated this time of year, as he did not count the two he had spent getting pumped full of Dark Eco, had been back in Sandover. It had been shortly before Gol and Maia went maverick, and began laying waste to the whole region.

That last yuletide had been special, more so than any of the others he could remember. A small, bitter smile made its way across his face as he remembered Keira asking him to stay a little later than the others. It had been there, without Daxter or her father to interrupt them, that they had shared their first kiss. It had been brief, but it conveyed the feelings that both had felt for each other.

That had been the happiest day of his life.

Joy, it seemed such a foreign emotion to him now, almost as if he had forgotten how to feel it. Nearly without exception, all he found himself capable of expressing these days was hatred, bitterness, contempt, and sorrow over himself. In the end, he could trace it all back to Praxis and Errol. They were the reason that so much had happened to him. They were the reason he had lost everything, his innocence, his humanity, his happiness and many other things.

More than anything at that moment, the former Channeler simply wanted to be home, to be back in Sandover with Daxter, Keira and Samos, just as things had been three years ago at this time, back before he had arrived here, back before all those things had happened to him, back before he had become this hatred driven, icy-hearted warrior that he was now.

His sorrow was so great that it gave even his inner demon anxiety, and the Eco infused elf had felt its presence within his mind for the past several minutes. It seemed as though it wanted to know what was wrong with him, like it wanted to know how it could help ease the pain of its host. Gently, as he did not wish to hurt it, which he did find strange, he dismissed it back into the recess of his mind, and continued to let the darkness of his current reality try to swallow him up.

For hours, he remained where he was, leaning against the wall of the large room, his mind filled with a strange combination of images of he and his friends together, and the many tortures that Errol had put him through in prison. Suddenly, he could take it no longer, and something within him snapped. He had to do something _now_, he couldn't wait any longer to set his plan in motion.

The dark elf looked around the room. The vast majority of the resistance members were currently occupied in doing something, such as Daxter, who was now flirting with Tess, quite shamelessly at that, while Torn had been very comically yanked out onto the dance floor by Ashelin, who had somehow managed to sneak away from her duties long enough to drop in. At the moment, it seemed quite obvious that no one would miss him, so the former Channeler parted himself from the wall that he'd been leaning against for heaven only knew how long, and quickly made his way to the room he shared with about five other soldiers.

He arrived shortly thereafter to find it deserted. That was good, it meant that he didn't have to think up any sort of B.S. to try and explain what he was about to do. His hands nearly trembling in anticipation, Jak belted on his gun and slung Kitetsu over his shoulder, before putting on one of his coats, both to try and dull the bite of the cold, and to cover up the fact that he was about to walk outside in the middle of a snowstorm with his weapons, which would no doubt arouse suspicion from other Underground members.

With a deceptive amount of causality, he strode to one of the doors of the hidden base, and informed one of the guards that he was heading out to get some fresh air. He got a look, but the elf opened the door anyway, and allowed him to step outside.

Almost instantly, he was assaulted by the howling wind and the stinging frost in the air. Shoving his discomfort aside as he had so many times before, the dark elf began to double time it towards the power station. With any bit of luck, Vin would be working the graveyard shift today.

* * *

As they were quite sympathetic to the rebel cause, and more than a few recognized the elf who had managed to single handedly traverse the under siege mining operation to rescue their friends, Jak had little difficulty in both gaining access to the plant and finding out that Vin was indeed busy working at his station, which was concerned with monitoring the power going to the city and the Shield Wall to ensure that it did its job of keeping the Metal Heads outside of the city.

"Hello, Vin." the former Channeler said as he walked in, promptly causing the jittery engineer to yelp and whirl around, clutching his chest.

"Don't do that! You're going to give me a heart attack!" he screeched, earning him a look from Jak.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a little…high strung?" the Eco infused elf inquired.

"A few times." Vin answered, before apparently having clamed down enough to realize who it was he was talking to. "Oh, I never got the chance to thank you for bailing me out back at the strip mine." he said, before rushing up to shake the dark elf's hand.

"Well, I actually came here because I need a favor done." Jak told him.

"If it's about your Eco bill, I'm afraid you've got the wrong department, but…" the aging elf started, but Jak was quick to cut him off.

"No, nothing like that." he said, shaking his head, and causing a confused look to come over Vin. "I'm on a mission for the Underground, they've authorized a hit on the Baron, and I'm the assassin."

"Soooo, what do you need me for?" Vin asked, scratching his head and appearing even more baffled than before.

"I've been told that the service elevators in the Palace support towers would lead all the way up to the cables. I was planning on using them to get into the compound, but from what I understand, they're run by an older section of the power grid, one that was shut down a while back."

"You aren't kidding." Vin muttered, adjusting his glasses. "Those things belong to the old B-zone grid, that thing hasn't worked in nearly four years, there's no way its going to…"

"Alright," Jak said, bringing up his hands and waving them slightly, "I understand, after all, bringing a dead grid to life probably is a little too much for one tech-head to handle."

That was the key, and Jak knew it. For an instant, the engineer across from him gawked like an idiot, before a flush came over his face.

"Too much to handle?" Vin said in a voice as close to a growl as he had probably ever used, before storming over to his control panel.

The engineer then proceeded to verbally walk himself through a process that Jak could only assume had something with redirecting the power supply to the towers. However, after about word number three, he was completely and thoroughly lost, and he watched, awestruck, as Vin's hands verily flew over the various control surfaces, moving with a speed and dexterity that one would not have thought possible, given his age.

"And presto! You've got instant lift juice!" the aging tech-head exclaimed, once more pivoting around, but this time with a massive, triumphant smile upon his face.

"Vin…you're a genius." Was all the dark elf could say.

"Actually, Mar was the genius." Vin responded, suddenly becoming subdued and finding his shoes quite interesting.

"What do you mean?" the former Channeler asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Well, the legends say that he built everything here," the engineer told him, gesturing around, "the Shield Wall, the Eco Grid, everything."

"Sounds like he knew what he was doing." Jak mused, before turning around to leave.

"Well, if the legends are correct, they also say that he didn't work alone." Vin said, almost as an afterthought.

"What are you talking about?" the dark elf asked, looking back over his shoulder.

"Well, some of the myths give reference to someone else helping with the planning of the city, someone called "The Praetor" or something like that." the older elf said with a shrug of his wiry shoulders. "I personally never gave it much thought, always believed it was the product of some overactive imagination, but you'd be surprised at the theories bouncing around in some of the books I read at school."

"Care to indulge me?" Jak asked, taking what he found to be an unusual interest in history.

"Oh, I've read hypotheses that put it as being anything from some kind of wacky machine, to an elf of some far off land, and the most outlandish ones even claim that it was a Precursor." he informed the dark elf, ending the last bit with a weak chuckle.

"Hmmm, interesting." The former Channeler muttered.

Nodding in a dismissive manner, and walking out of the room, Jak mulled over this strange bit of information.

Picking up his pace, he hustled back outside, noting that the storm was starting to subside, and made for the nearest support tower. Hopefully, before dawn began to light up the eastern horizon, he'd be on his way back, with Praxis', and if he was really fortunate, Errol's heads grasped in hand.

Vin bit his lower lip as he watched Jak leave. There was something strange about him, something that the engineer couldn't place, and frankly, while Jak had been the one to save his life, he felt more than a little nervous.

However, that thought was quickly pushed from his head as the comm. went off, beeping to a signal that could mean only one person was calling. but what in the Precursors name would Torn want at this ungodly hour?

* * *

Tess laughed merrily at one of the rare instances where Daxter delivered a punch line that was actually more than a little funny. It was strange, how quickly she had taken a liking to the little rodent, his blatant lack of courage aside. However, before Daxter could launch into another tale of him and his blond haired compatriot, there was the sound of someone gruffly clearing his throat behind her.

She pivoted about and Daxter peeked around her shoulder. Torn was standing behind them, his arms crossed over his chest, and an irritated look upon his face.

"Hey there, Tattooed Wonder, saw ya earlier, way to tear the floor up." Daxter said in a cheeky manner.

This had the once in a thousand lifetimes effect of causing the hardened Ex-Delta to lose all traces of his composure and go beet red in the face, while at the same time also causing him to ball his fists up to the point where it looked as if he was going to strangle the Ottsel. However, years of dealing with ignorant officers and other such situations had taught him a great deal of patience, though the fuzzy orange rat standing in front of him was certainly pushing him to his limits. Slowly, the fists unclenched, though what he said next still came through gritted teeth.

"Where's Jak?"

"Wha'cha want him for?" Daxter asked, eyeing him strangely.

"The Shadow's decided that it's time to meet him, but now that he finally does, I can't find your friend anywhere." Torn all but snarled.

"Well, the last time I saw him, he was moping over there," Tess said, pointing to the place where Jak had been not too long ago, "looking like he just wanted to be left alone."

"Well, he's obviously not there now." Torn stated matter of factly.

Strangely enough, the answer to Jak's possible location came just seconds later, as an elf who had just gotten off of his guard shift informed the commander of what had transpired during his watch. Needless to say, Torn was baffled. Daxter, however, felt a sinking feeling start to develop in his gut, and no small amount of fear made its way through him.

"Uh-oh." the Ottsel muttered.

"What do you mean by uh-oh?" Torn asked, his eyes glaring down upon the rodent.

"Oh nothing," Daxter quickly amended, laughing nervously, "I think I might have just left something on back in our area of the barracks."

The tattooed resistance soldier was not convinced, and promptly snapped the diminutive former elf up by the scruff of his neck, despite Tess' protests.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you." Torn growled, his tone threatening.

Sighing in defeat, the Ottsel proceeded to tell his captor what he thought might have been going on.

"You know about Jak's…issues…and that he's been wanting to pay the Baron back ever since I sprang him out of the slammer." Daxter said, earning him a nod from the elf. "Well, patience was never one of his strong points, so I think he might have tried to do things himself."

Torn was so shocked that he nearly dropped the rodent upon the ground. Jak going after the Baron by himself? For a couple of moments, the Ex-Delta wondered if the dark elf had somehow become unhinged. Trying to take the tyrant on alone, that was crazy and Torn knew it. Not only was Praxis a skilled warrior in his own right, but he would doubtless have a lot of protection around him, especially after the raid they had conducted.

Then of course, there was the small matter of actually managing to get inside, as Torn was quite certain that Jak didn't intend to waltz up and ring the door bell.

"How exactly do you think he might try and pull this off?" the haggard warrior inquired of the Ottsel.

"Weeeeeellll," Daxter said, his brain attempting to come up with a plan that Jak might think about, and he suddenly remembered the conversation they had had that day, nearly two months ago now, with that mysterious contact, who had informed his friend of the elevators. "Someone once told us that he might have been able to use those support cables keeping the palace up to get in unnoticed."

"But the power to those things has been out for…" Torn began, before trailing off.

In a single blurred motion, the tattooed commander had ripped his comm. unit from his waist, and punched in a set of numbers. His face becoming more twisted in anger by the second, he waited for a certain informant to pick up.

* * *

The storm had calmed, but at his current altitude, the wind still howled, and threatened to blow him off his rather precarious position. Not helping was the fact that the person who had designed these things had obviously never heard of a handy little lifesaving device called "handrails", meaning that at any moment, a wrong step would send him plummeting a good nine or so hundred feet to the ground. Still, he pressed onward, making his way towards his goal, entertaining visions of Praxis' lifeblood staining Kitetsu within his mind.

Still, he was left with the question of how to do it. Should he kill him with a gun, a single bolt through the head? No, he thought quickly, determining that it would be too quick. Perhaps a decapitation, then? Again the dark elf decided against that. While bloody, that would be a death given to a warrior, as it had a certain grim nobility to it, something he did not associate with the man responsible for nearly diving him insane. Tossing him over the edge of the palace? No, while that would definitely have a great deal of satisfaction to it, too many things could go wrong, and once again, it was too quick, he wanted Praxis to suffer.

Eventually, he just gave up and decided he'd think of something once he had Praxis on his knees, helpless and at his mercy. Right now, it would probably be more prudent to watch his step. It was, after all, a very long way down.

* * *

Vin pressed a button at his station, and Torn's visage sprang to life on a consol screen. The gray haired elf stepped backwards, surprised, not only by the fact that the hardened Ex-Delta was contacting him, but by the furious expression on his face, which probably would have even caused a Metal Head to quiver in fear.

"Torn, what do you…" he started.

"Did Jak come by to talk to you?" the commander snarled.

"Wha…" the tech-head started.

"Did Jak come by and speak to you about anything?" Torn shouted, causing the engineer to recoil in fear.

"Y, yes, he did." Vin stuttered, and Torn nodded for him to continue, encouragement that was not necessary. "He, he said that he needed me, to um, restore power to the B-zone grid so he could use the support tower elevators."

"And what reason did he give for that?" the other elf inquired, his tone venomous.

"He said that you guys wanted to have Praxis assassinated. You, you did give him that order, right?"

"As much as the idea of reading about Praxis' death on the front page of tomorrow's newspaper gives me a happy feeling, now would not be a good time." Torn responded, and Vin could tell that there was a very, very powerful rage building just below the surface of the tattooed resistance soldier.

That rage exploded approximately two seconds later as Torn launched into a tirade that would have made a Wastelander go red in the face, caused elven mothers to cover the ears of their children, and resulted Vin in squeaking like a small rodent and trying to curl up in a ball in a vain attempt to disappear.

"That damn fool is going to get himself killed!" Torn shouted, his gaze drifting to a person that the engineer couldn't see.

"What can we do?" came another voice, this one higher pitched, and Vin realized it was that strange creature that had been with Jak on the day of his rescue.

"Not a thing. Not a damn thing." Torn responded, his tone quiet, but still angry. "If they capture him, they'll torture him until he gives up this base." He remarked out loud.

For a time, everyone remained where they were, with none knowing what to do about this rogue Underground fighter. Daxter was rapidly becoming beside himself with concern, despite Tess' attempts to calm him and his own knowledge that Jak was more than capable of taking care of himself under the vast majority of circumstances. Torn was living up to his name, being of two different sides about it. Part of him, the part still loyal to the memory of Damas, hoped against hope that he'd rip the traitorous son of a bitch's heart straight out of his chest. However, the soldier within him was half hoping he'd fail; it'd serve him right for doing something this foolish.

Trying as it was, they forced themselves to remain where they were, realizing that nothing they could do would change the situation.

* * *

Though you wouldn't be able to tell by looking at him, Jak was greatly relieved when he got off the cable, and just about every fiber of his being prayed that he would have an alternate route available once he had taken care of business, as he had no desire to backtrack across that Precursor accursed thing yet again.

Rapidly as he could, he slunk through the darkness, emulating the shadows as well as any professional assassin could. The dark elf had been preparing himself for this task for weeks, and had spent long hours when no one else was around memorizing plans of the palace compound. As far as he had been able to reason, at this time of day, as it was by now early morning, Praxis would logically be sleeping soundly, which meant he would have to navigate his way over to the other side of the place.

It would hardly be a challenge.

Thus, imagine his amazement when he happened to wander by one of the large skylights that looked down upon the throne room, and beheld two, very, familiar figures standing inside.

It took every bit of self control that he could muster not to suddenly leap down through the glass, and try to take them both on then and there.

Even so, he probably would have, had he not suddenly realized that there was something else within the room as well. Memories flowed and he felt a bit of instinctive horror rise within him as he stared back at a hologram containing the visage of that creature that had tried to come through the Rift Gate, the beast that haunted and mocked him in his dreams. At long last, Jak realized what the monster had been. Here, was the image of the leader of the Metal Heads himself, the supposedly all powerful monster that had hunted the Channelers to the brink of extinction. Enthralled, the Eco infused elf got down on his knees, and pressed his ear against the glass, and watched the conversation with one eye. A normal elf still would have had problems hearing what was going on, but once again, with the price of his humanity had come the "blessing" of supernatural senses.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't send an extermination force straight to your gods-forsaken Nest right now!" Praxis snarled, his right hand gripping his blade hard.

"Now, now, Praxis, no need to act irrationally, your last few shipments had been insufficient to meet our needs, and so we simply took it upon ourselves to make up the difference." the creature replied, its tone smug.

"By razing our mining operation to the ground!" the tyrant roared. "I swear, I have half a mind to bombard your disgusting home into a glass crater!"

"Threaten me and my children like that again, my dear Baron, and I assure you that this deal will be effectively null and void," the Metal Head Leader retorted, its smugness replied by an icy hiss, "and it will officially be open season on elves as far as I am concerned."

"You wouldn't dare!" Praxis shot back.

"I hold all the cards, usurper, superior forces, more resources, and a mind infinitely more intelligent and cunning than that of a petty opportunist such as yourself, yet you think to tell me what I can and cannot do?" now it seemed amused. "Your arrogance astounds me, Baron. I have, in my mercy, offered to spare you pathetic little town in exchange for a small tribute, and you cannot even meet those insignificant requirements." it told Praxis, and the elf opened his mouth, only to find himself cut off yet again. "And do not even think of attacking my Nest, oh Ruler of Haven. You tried that once already, and even though you had a Channeler fighting alongside you, your military has yet to fully recover from that little disaster."

Praxis' shoulders slumped, and his grip upon his blade loosened, this thing had back him into a corner, and everyone present, including the eavesdropper, knew it.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked, rubbing the metal plate covering the left side of his face.

"The same thing any creditor wants," the Metal Head leader told him, "for you to keep up with your payments. And I warn you, Praxis, fall short again, and I will lose patience, and it will be _your_ gods-forsaken home that pays the price." it ordered, turning its head slightly in Jak's direction. Two of its eyes abruptly widened. "Oh, and Praxis, I would suggest that perhaps you keep your eyes peeled inward a little more often. Some of your enemies are closer to you than you think."

With those words, the hologram vanished, and a notable change came over the two elves standing there. Praxis seemed to become calmer and more confident, while the sociopath standing next to him, lost anything even vaguely resembling control.

"He's toying with us!" Errol exclaimed, whirling around to face his superior, his face twisted into a mask of nearly psychotic hatred. "Let me lead an assault on the Nest, I can take him!"

"Calm yourself, Errol." Praxis said in a considerably more civil tone. "You and I were both there last time we decided to do something like that, you know what happened as well as I. Throughout history, armies have challenged those monsters, and none could withstand them, even Channelers have been vanquished before his might." The Baron said, his good eye staring at the commander. "He'd swat you aside like you were nothing more than a bug."

"So what would you have us to do?" Errol inquired, crossing his arms over his chest.

"The same thing that we've been doing: teaching them to feed from our hands." Praxis responded. "We play helpless, and when the time is right, we strike." the despot paused for a moment, apparently mulling things over in his head. "And step up the search for Alexander. I swear, if you spent half as much time looking for him as you did flirting with that mechanic chick, we'd have pinned his royal ass to the wall a long time ago!"

This caught Jak's attention, and he wondered…na, the odds of them being the same…

"Furthermore, tell my daughter to double up her patrols, I want that tomb found." Praxis continued, drawing the dark elf's attention back to the conversation at hand.

"Oh, and speaking of your daughter, I found out a little something that you might want to take an interest in." Errol said with a snap of his fingers.

"And that would be?" his superior prompted.

"Well, you wouldn't believe…" Errol said as he glanced upward, before abruptly trailing off.

In an instant, Jak was gone from his position, but that instant had been enough.

"What is it, Errol?" Baron Praxis inquired, noticing the suddenly change in the other elf.

"He's here." was all the K.G. commander said, all that he needed to say.

"Hmm, to think we wasted all that effort looking for him, and here he comes to us." Praxis mused aloud. "Begin the containment operation as planned, commander, we're going to finish what we started."

The soldier nodded as his superior stormed out of the throne room, heading for his private armory.

* * *

The former Channeler growled, cursing this newest complication in his plans. Still, he refused to allow something like this to cause him to abandon his vengeance, he had come too far to give up now. And so it was that he continued looking for a way inside the palace, his legendary determination not allowing him to despair.

"There's got to be some way inside of this place." he remarked.

"I'd recommend the chimney, but it's already reserved tonight." came an answer.

Whirling about, and drawing his weapons at the same time, Jak came face to face with the object of his hunt. Praxis stood before him, sporting some type of strange, black combat armor that he had never seen before, and holding a large assault rifle in his hands, with a rather nasty looking second barrel slung underneath the primary one. The dark elf could also see that the Baron was still carrying his large blade, a strong indication that he probably didn't just haul it around for show. On cue, a gust of wind kicked up, teasing the edges of Jak's coat, and whipping a bit of snow past the two.

"Really, Praxis, I already have enough reasons to kill you, you didn't have to go and add bad one liners to the list." the dark elf remarked, a twisted grin making its way to his face.

"So you're here to kill me, eh boy?" the despot remarked, feigning surprise. "Well, it seems we are at a disagreement about that. I'm afraid you won't find me to be quite the prey you imagined."

"We'll see about that." Jak remarked.

For a moment, the whole world seemed frozen in time, as these two archenemies measured each other up. Then, the fight began.

Jak made the first move, diving off to his left, firing his magnum all the while. Praxis leapt in the opposite direction, moving with speed and agility that one would not think possible given his age. The tyrant came up shooting, his rifle spitting rapid three shot bursts at the dark elf. The former Channeler could feel the heat as the Eco sped by, coming within inches of making contact, and was forced to quickly re-evaluate his estimation of Praxis' combat abilities.

However, this was not to say that Jak was in any way inferior to his nemesis. The dark elf proved this by tapping into his enhanced physical abilities, and performing a super-human leap, completely leaving the Baron's field of view, and getting off no less than four bursts from his pistol. The shots hit home, but did not penetrate the armor that Praxis wore. The older elf retaliated with several bursts of his own once he had lined Jak back up in his sights, and while the dark elf was able to harness his unnatural agility or sword skills to dodge and deflect most of the bolts, Praxis did succeed in putting several holes in his trench coat. The former Channeler fired as he leapt again, but as it was before, the shots did nothing to his foe.

Realizing that much like a Crab Head, Praxis' armor protected him too well to be damaged by normal shots, the Eco infused elf quickly flipped his magnum to its charge mode, and held the trigger down, taking cover behind a three foot high raised portion of the palace while he waited. Reliable as ever, the magnum was soon vibrating, but the dark elf waited, his ears becoming his eyes. His muscles tensing, he waited for anything that would betray where Praxis was. Then, he heard the slight 'scrunch' as a heavy boot moved through snow. In an instant, he had sprang up and unleashed the charge up bolt.

Praxis' eye widened to about the size of an average dinner plate as he saw the small meteor come sailing in towards him. The Baron jumped to the side, but due to the homing capabilities of the blast, still had some of his facial hair scorched off and felt a stinging pain shot along the side of his face as bits of stone and metal pelted his exposed head. Still, he counted his blessings when he looked behind him and discovered an eight inch crater where the blast had hit.

The Baron growled, so Jak wanted to play with big noisemakers, ey? Well, he wasn't the only one packing high explosives. Praxis thumbed a switch on his gun, and reached for the pump handle on the bottom of the second barrel of the rifle. He then angled the weapon slightly, cocked it, and squeezed the trigger. There was a "thunk" and a bright red orb shot out of the barrel. It hit part of the palace wall, and bounced backwards.

Where it came to a rest right next to the dark elf.

Now it was Jak's turn to feel his eyes grow wide, and with a swear, he hurled himself from his cover. Still, the plasmite grenade was on a short timed fuse, and he had not gotten more than five feet away when it exploded. A scream tore its way from his throat when the heat washed over him. Pain that swiftly increased as the material of his coat over his right arm melted under the intensity of the blast, beginning to stick to his skin. Dropping his magnum, the dark elf threw himself into the slush and water in an attempt to cool down, and heedless of the consequences, grabbed his right sleeve and ripped it off, exposing the charred skin one associated with very, very bad third degree burns.

Willing away the pain and nausea of his wound, the former Channeler stood, picking his morph-gun up as he did so, and staring into the good eye of his foe, his own glowing orbs promising a thousand torturous demises. Praxis coolly loaded another grenade into his gun, smirking at his adversary, believing himself to have done a great deal of damage to the other elf. However, while the usurper had seen Jak heal rapidly in prison a few times, once the novelty of it had worn off, he had forgotten about it. He very quickly began to regret that little unconscious decision of his, as he watched the healing factor that his little experimental soldier had take effect.

Jak was quick to take advantage of the distraction, putting another charge shot dead on a collision course with his nemesis. Too late, Praxis realized his error, and was blown off his feet as the comet connected with his torso. He skidded for a small ways, finally coming to a stop perilously close to the edge of the palace. Instantly realizing the danger he was in, the Baron rolled away and leapt back up to his feet. No sooner had he done this, than a sharp hiss reached his ears, and he looked back to see Kitetsu imbedded within the spot he had occupied a mere moment ago. At the same time, he registered the condition of his armor. Most of the plating in the target region had been slagged by the bolt, but thankfully, none of the more delicate electronics had been harmed, or the future could have looked bleak indeed.

Returning his attention to the battle, he fired another grenade and as he expected, Jak dove away and to the right, trying to get far enough away so that he didn't have to risk getting blown off the edge. Now realizing it would probably take far more to incapacitate his opponent than he had originally expected, the tyrant fired on the dark elf with reckless abandon, and Jak felt more pain work its way through him as the bolts tore through his clothing. Still, he accepted the pain with little more than a grunt.

He fired again, but this time the Baron was ready, and dropped flat at the last minute. Quickly, Jak ducked behind cover and loaded a new clip into the morph-gun, before springing out, not wishing to get another grenade fired at him. What instead met him was another barrage of rifle bolts as the despot got back to his feet, having taken advantage of the lull in the fighting to also reload. Kitetsu was quick to intercept these shots, sending them ricocheting about. This had the humorous effect of causing Praxis to drop back down again as a few whizzed back towards him.

By this time, Praxis was beginning to lose patience, both due to the sheer stubbornness of his opponent, and the fact that Errol seemed to be taking his sweet time getting the rest of the men into position. Opting to err on overkill, and assuming that Jak would not be permanently injured by what he was about to do, Praxis quickly loaded yet another grenade, and fired. No sooner did the first one leave the barrel of his rifle, than was another one loaded and fired, arcing over the small battlefield like a flare. As for the dark elf, well, he leapt out of the way of the first one, only to find that his foe had been watching him carefully and had predicted almost exactly where he was going to leap, and that there was already another plasmite explosive there waiting for him. Jak was quick to vault backwards, but the concussion of the explosion was still sufficient to blow him off his feet, though it was not enough to liquefy any more of his clothing.

Still, that was small consolation to the blinding pain that lanced through his skull as he impacted against a wall with enough force to make a small crack in it. His morph-gun and Kitetsu dropping from suddenly nerveless hands, Jak felt his world going black. Desperately, he fought a losing battle to stay awake, realizing that to surrender to the pain would mean recapture, and even more of the hellish experiments.

It was then, that the dark elf was once again saved by his guardian devil.

Praxis smirked as he observed the apparently unconscious elf, and was about to radio in for Errol to get his skinny rear out here and secure Jak before anything could go awry when it happened. He heard a crackling sound, and saw dark lighting course its way down Kitetsu's length. Puzzled, he stared at the blade, suddenly recognizing it for what it was. How? How could that katana have returned after all of these years? He had been in the assault, had gotten mangled because of it, and he knew what Damas' fate had been. So how had his sword returned?

Suddenly, Jak twitched, and the Baron started to storm forward to club him with his rifle. However, he stopped dead in his tracks when he the dark elf looked up, revealing his eyes to be orbs as dark as the night. With an utterly inhuman growl, "Jak" leapt back to his feet. Praxis watched, his entire body seemingly paralyzed, as the former Channeler's skin became pale, and the blond hair faded to ashen gray, while horns and razored claws sprang from head and hands.

To have observed the creature on a security camera, and have read about what it was capable of was one thing. Standing in front of it, not ten feet separating them, the tyrant realized, was something else entirely. Praxis knew a moments' fear, and then the creature was upon him.

The demon's talons lashed out, and a horrendous shriek split the air as the Baron found his rifle cut into several smaller and considerably less effective pieces by the swipe. The creature then lashed out with a vicious roundhouse kick, fury driving it to inflict pain upon this elf, this elf that had for so longed dared to harm its host.

The Baron found himself in a position quite similar to what Jak had been in not too long ago, and smiled bitterly at the irony of the situation. However, even as he looked up to see the demon standing over his, its arm stretched out and the moonlight shinning off of its claws, the creature seemed to hesitate.

It was confused, as its host, now having recovered from the blow that had been dealt to him, was commanding it to back off. Not fully understanding, but realizing that it probably had something to do with its host wanting to finish the job himself, the creature withdrew to the recesses of Jak's mind.

Disbelievingly, Praxis watched as the dark elf returned to normal. The former Channeler kept his eyes shut for a moment, thanking his inner demon for its timely assistance, to which the creature responded with an emotion Jak could only describe as being something along the lines of pride. However, the Eco infused warrior was quick to move and retrieve his weapons, contemptuously turning his back on his opponent.

Kitetsu was again, warm to the touch, but he did not allow himself to dwell on this strange effect. Instead, he turned back around, and watched as his foe got back to his feet. Jak knew he could end it right here, but he didn't. He didn't just want to kill Praxis, he wanted to make him suffer, to humiliate him before finishing him off. And so, he holstered his gun, and began to casually twirl the dark katana in his right hand, waiting for the Baron to pull himself together. Praxis, eager to take any break he could get, got back up and drew his sword, assuming a combat stance.

Jak was about to enter his own, when a sharp pain went through his head. For a moment, he was not here, was not locked in a fight to the death with his nemesis. He was in what looked like some sort of training dojo. Before him, dressed in strange armor, was an elf, with Kitetsu grasped firmly in one hand. In short bursts, he saw the strange warrior move about, striking at invisible opponents, moving in a manner he had never seen before, yet recognized on some primitive level.

He snapped back to reality, realizing that the whole ordeal had lasted less than a second. A smile made its way over his face yet again, and he changed his pose.

Baron Praxis watched, his brain refusing to believe what he was seeing. Jak had the dark blade held in one hand, his grip upon it reversed as if it were a knife. The former Channeler then leaned forward, placing his weight upon the balls of his feet and brought his right arm to where it was elevated slightly above his back. To complete the picture, Jak stuck his left his left hand out in front of him, and tensed his body, his eyes locked onto his opponent.

A single word flashed through the Baron's mind: Ataru. For an instant, a paranoid delusion made its way through his head, a sudden thought that Damas had somehow returned from the dead to seek vengeance for what Praxis had done to his family and city. Fortunately for him, rationality quickly regained control. Unfortunately, that did not dispel the fact that Jak was about to come at him with a style that almost completely foreign to him.

Ataru was a sword style known only to a select few, the Mar lineage being among those who did practice it. It was an unorthodox way to battle, its techniques focusing more upon being fleet of foot than strong of sword arm. Aggressive, but still focused, it was hard for most to master, but in the hands of a skilled user, such as Damas had been, it could cause enemies to literally stampede over each other in an attempt to get out of the way. Praxis had also sparred with his brother-in-law on a few occasions, and had had his rear handed to him every time, gift wrapped, and usually with a small bow attached.

So it was for good reason that he let out a tiny gulp as Jak charged in, screaming incoherently at him. Thanks to his armor, he was able to get his own sword down in time to block Kitetsu's initial strike, but before he could counter, the dark elf was no longer in front of him.

He spun about to his right, once more stopping the dark katana, but not reacting fast enough to dodge the kick that slammed into his titanium faceplate with enough force to dent it. His damage inflicted, the Baron's opponent vanished as he thrust forward with a deceptive amount of strength. Once more, the attack came from the right, as Praxis realized that Jak was using the fact that he was blind on that side to try and get at him. Still, he only had to delay a little longer…hopefully.

For a third time, the former Channeler blurred in, the runed katana seeking to bathe in the lifeblood of its adversary. Praxis just did manage to block as Jak jumped up and spun about, his blade level with the tyrant's throat. Once finished though, Jak did not execute a hit and run type attack, but pressed on, Kitetsu coming in from every conceivable direction as the Eco infused elf slashed, thrust, chopped, and cut at the usurper, nearly breaking through the Baron's defenses on several occasions. All the while, he knew that the creature within him was watching this, analyzing every detail, observing every parry, dodge, and counterstrike.

Finally, the Baron caught a bit of a break, as he was able to riposte one of the former Channeler's blows, throwing the dark elf off balance. Now, it was Jak who found himself weaving and dodging and blocking Praxis' assault. The former Channeler was confused, to say the least. How was it that the Baron was able to match his strength and his speed, unnaturally enhanced as it was?

Another blow came in, and Jak managed to block, but the power of it drove him to his knees. However, in doing so, Praxis made a critical and unconscious error, from which he learned a lesson he never forgot. He learned that if an elf is put through an experimental procedure that bestows upon him incredible strength, speed, and rapid healing, and that if said elf has a grudge against you, it is usually unwise to take a course of action that results in that elf suddenly being eye level to your groin.

His one eye widened to where it could have possibly rolled out of his skull, and his breath left his lungs as he leaned forward. Through the pain, instinct kicked in, and he whipped his head back just as the blade of Mar came in at his skull, slicing through the plating and drawing a line of blood that stretched from his right cheek all the way to the left part of his scalp.

Jak pressed his attack, his broken knuckles healing while he darted around, coming at Praxis from all sides, still wondering how the tyrant was keeping up with him. Still, even if Praxis somehow managed to defeat him, the dark elf took grim pleasure in the fact that he was pretty certain Ashelin would not be having any siblings in the near future.

At last, one blow did manage to get through his adversaries defenses though, and the sound of rended metal once more resounded through the chill winter air. What startled the former Channeler, however, was not the blood seeping down Praxis' side, but the small arcs of electricity that accompanied them. Suddenly, he focused with his ears, tapping into his sensitive hearing once again. At first, there was nothing, but then, he heard it. Above the sound of Praxis' labored breathing, and barely detectable with the wind, was the sound of a mechanical whirring.

That was it! That was how Praxis was staying with him, how his blows were so strong. Somehow, his armor was powered; the Baron was using his protective gear as a means of supplementing his combat skills. Well, such a device had to have a power source of some sort, and Jak intended to find it.

Praxis was more than a little confused when his foe suddenly stopped trying to end his life, and instead became content to dance about, as if mocking him. Still, as before, he was going to take any break he could get, as the tyrant knew he had to end this battle quickly. Even with this experimental combat shell helping him out, he was beginning to tire, and he was very lucky that the dark elf he was facing hadn't damaged anything too vital with that last stroke, both on the armor and him.

"Come on, Errol, any day now." Praxis muttered, wondering what in the nine hells was taking so long.

The Baron thrust forward, and Jak once more dodged out of the way. This time, however, the Eco infused elf chose to dance to the left, rather than the right. Though he could still see him, Praxis had made the mistake of thinking Jak would go in the other way, as he had been doing thus far. This sudden change of tactics on the part of the dark elf threw him completely off guard, and turned his exposed back to his adversary. Jak's eyes widened as he saw the strange, box like protrusion that stuck out about two or so inches from the rest of the armor plating, and he instantly recognized it as the Achilles heel of the protection.

Before Praxis could recover, Jak raced forward, and bringing Kitetsu up from below, sliced through the power supply in a shower of sparks and short-circuiting wires. Praxis felt his armor go from being nearly weightless, to a two hundred and fifty odd pound turtle shell in a matter of seconds. Before he could keel forward, however, the dark elf appeared in front of him, kicking out and ensuring that he landed on his back.

Now utterly helpless, the Baron watched as his creation leaned over him, a dark grin upon his face. The former Channeler looked his downed adversary dead in the eye, before spitting in it. As Praxis shook his head in an attempt to clear his vision, he realized that Jak was bringing the dark katana he carried up above him, turning it to where it was point side down.

"Game over, chrome dome." Jak hissed, his voice filled with anticipation.

He was just about to plunge the blade downward into the despot's stomach, ensuring a painful and drawn out death, when his inner demon snarled a warning. Having learned to trust the creature, the dark elf suddenly leapt into the air. As he flipped around, he saw no less than fifty K.G. commandos that had shown up, and heard the sound of Eco bolts hissing through the air where he had been not moments before. In an instant, his magnum was out, and Blue Eco flew from its barrel as he gunned one down. However, as he touched down, he was forced to immediately throw himself to his left, once again taking cover behind one of the palace structures, as a firestorm tried to intercept him.

Stuck where he was, he pondered his courses of action. To remain was suicide, or perhaps worse. Furthermore, there was now no way in hell he would be able to skewer Praxis, much to his fury. That was unless…

He quickly felt deep within his mind, consulting with his alter ego. The creature, fearsome as it was, was hesitant to engage such a vast force, uncertain it could defeat them all. This uncertainty was reinforced when Jak heard tramping coming from the other direction, and he realized that there was another force coming in to try and catch him in a hammer and anvil type tactic. It was then that the demon suggested an option that he had refused to consider up till now: fleeing. Much as he disliked abandoning a goal so close to success, the dark elf was forced to agree with the creature, and braced himself for something that would mean either his death, or living to one day come back and finish the job.

Bolting from his hiding place, he stormed across the roof, taking several hits in his sides as he did so. Then, all present watched as he hurled himself over the side, more than a thousand feet from the ground.

Errol rushed over to the ledge, accompanied by several other yellow armored commandos. They were just in time to watch Jak, who by this time had nearly halved the distance between himself and the ground, flip around, and plant Kitetsu into the side of the palace, using it as a means to slow himself down.

"Sound the alarm, put everyone on full alert!" the commander exclaimed, looking at those beside him. "Make sure he doesn't escape!"

As they rushed to obey, he rushed over to his superior, quickly trying to determine whether or not he was alright.

"Took you long enough." Praxis growled.

"Sorry, Sir, but we had a hard time getting everyone up here, we really should have sprung for larger elevators." Errol responded, his tone apologetic.

"Remind me to have that done later." Praxis conceded. "As for now, help me get out of this thing, it's getting hard to breathe!"

"Yes sir!" his second in command said, before proceeding to remove the now useless armor as quickly as he could.

"And someone get me a damn medkit!"

* * *

Thirty feet from the ground, he yanked his blade from the wall, and hit the grass around the palace grounds, spreading his legs to absorb the impact. Realizing that it would not be long before this place was swarming with guards, he bolted for the gates. Realizing any bit of stealth that he could get his hands on would be needed, Jak thumbed a button on his magnum, and the suppressor that Krew had given him suddenly formed on the barrel.

It started to carry its weight a few minutes later, when the dark elf used it to gun down a pair of K.G. that were on patrol. The former Channeler was forced to admit, the mod did its job well, as the usual loud boom was replaced instead by a muffled cough. Rushing past their bodies, he paused, remaining in the shadows as best he could, looking for a means of transportation.

That problem was solved merely moments later, as a speeder bike came by, about fifteen feet from the ground. The Krimzon Guard driving it never knew what hit him as he slipped off and fell to the ground, a neat hole burned through his temple. Jak bolted, and then leaped up, making what should have been a nearly impossible jump with relative ease.

Unfortunately, this action was spotted by another bike, and even as Jak got the speeder into the proper gear, and zoomed away, he was picking up a pursuit force that would include no less than a dozen very upset K.G., who were firing at him recklessly.

Muttering vaguely about history repeating itself a little faster than it normally did, Jak set about, making random turns and trying to do anything in his power to get rid of the small armada on his six. In addition to the various evasive maneuvers, he also spat in the face of the odds, and looking back, took aim and fired his pistol at his pursuers. Most of the shots went wild, but one or two hit home, killing one of the guards and causing his bike to crash into the pavement below.

However, that still left more than eleven tailing him, and if possible, made them even more determined to kill him. Things were getting ugly, fast, and he knew it. Once more, the dark elf found himself begging providence for an option, for a way out, though he realized he had already pushed his luck far more than any one person had a right to. Such were his thoughts as the chase continued throughout the early morning.

Still, it seemed as though he might just live to fight another day, as he suddenly came into the port area. Once again, those loading cranes might just be what would save his neck. Diving down to where he was about twenty or so feet off of the water, he shrieked towards the closest one. Now, if only the K.G. would play along.

They were happy to oblige, firing at him with zeal. Finally, one bolt hit the bike, and Jak suddenly jerked on the controls, putting the bike into a spin that made it appear to be out of control. His pursuers watched, smiling to each other as the zoomer explode when it hit the loading crane. They made a single pass over the wreckage, noting with satisfaction the lack of a body, meaning that the would-be assassin was either drowning at the moment, or was in pieces.

Cheering amongst themselves, they zipped back to report their success to their commander and ruler.

* * *

Baron Praxis was in the medical ward, a steady supply of Green Eco slowly healing his wounds, while a considerably larger I.V. bag filled with morphine went into his left arm, numbing him to the considerable amount of pain he was in.

That was the condition that the patrol leader found him in when he stepped inside to report. He stood at attention, waiting for either the Baron or Errol to give him the go ahead.

"Well, get on with it!" the commander snapped, clearly in a bad mood.

"Sir, were pursued the target to the port region, where we managed to terminate him." The trooper responded.

"Did you see a body?" Praxis inquired, his mind still relatively sharp considering what he had been through.

"No Sir," the soldier said, shaking his head, "but the water in the harbor is fifty below zero this time of year, he'd be paralyzed by the shock of the cold and drown. Even if, by some miracle, he managed to climb out, hypothermia would get him in a matter of minutes. Plus, that assuming he even survived the crash."

"Did you see…a body?" the tyrant asked again, his voice lowered to a dangerous growl.

"No…" the man began.

"Then he is still alive, sergeant." Errol said, his back turned to him. "This elf isn't normal. He's a survivor, and I for one," he said, whirling around suddenly, "will not believe he is dead until I see his corpse paraded in front of me. Even then, you can bet that I'll be taking a real close look at it."

The trooper shuffled his feet, not sure what to make of this. He was grateful when Praxis waved his hand dismissively, and told him to leave.

* * *

Back at the harbor, a hand suddenly shot up out of the water, grabbing a metal support on the pier. It was quickly followed by a second, and then a body, as Jak hauled himself out of the subzero harbor. Once up on the pavement, he shivered as the liquid crystallized, turning into ice on his skin. A burning pain in his left leg and arm also demanded his attention, and he bent down to rip out a few pieces of shrapnel from his body. From there, he stumbled towards the Hip-Hog, its large mascot glowing in the distance.

* * *

&

* * *

Whew, finally done with that one. Once more, I'm sorry if this chapter wasn't as good as previous ones, as I'm not sure how well liked this battle was between Jak and Praxis. I always thought that the one in the game was too...detached, that the two of them should have been quite literally getting in each other's faces, if you know what I mean.

Anyway, the usual message applies. Feel free to leave any comments, criticisms, etc., etc. so on and so forth. Also remember to have a great day. As for me, well, I do believe I managed to pick of a case of Carpal Tunnel Syndrome or whatever it's called.


	12. Repercussions

(walks out, humming under his breath)

Hi everyone, don't mind my half-arsed attempt at the art of music, spent a good portion of this chapter listening to Linkin Park's "In The End", and now it's stuck in my head. The song's sorta depressing, but I felt that it suited the mood. Yes, before anyone asks, I am insane and pathetic. But enough about my current mental state.

To those of you kind enough to review.

**Light-Eco-Sage-** Glad that you liked it, hope this qualifies as "good work" hehe, wish me luck.

**Lunatic Pandora1- **Yes, the powered battle armor was somethign I decided to experiment with, and it does give one a very big advantage, but then, as you saw, it has quite the Achilles Heel, doesn't it? On another note, if you think Jak is kicking everyone's rear-end six ways from Sunday right now, just wait until later, as I plan on trying another experimental thing as well (crosses fingers).

**SeventhSpanishAngel12**- I'm glad you enjoyed it, and I hope that my future chapters please as well.

**Shakai- **Thanks for the vote of confidence, and the awards. Now I simply have to find a place to put them, as my room somewhat resembles Haven City in the third game. Hope you think this chapter was as good as teh last one.

**Evil Manic- **Glad you liked it so far, and thanks for the gun ideas, one of em's going to be used in the next chapter, just so you know. As far as character influences are concerned, you're right on everyone of them but The Arbiter, though I can understand why you thought that. The being from the vision is actually based off the alien race that inspired the appearance of the Elites, though the helmet and dreadlocks were more of a Predator thing.

**Something Stuipid-** You're giving me waaaaaayyyy to much credit, I'd class myself as a mediocre, at best. Still, thanks for your support, and your ideas (bows).

**Exardas- **If I am good at writing battle scenes, it is only because I have read the works of those who are truly masters in the art of literary combat. I've read a lot of books by R.A. Salvatore, the creator of the Dark Elf series of books, which is where I've gotten a lot of the melee combat moves from, while the gun slinging is a result of virtually memorizing the two Halo books written by Eric Nylund, who goes into mucho grande detail about how the characters are interacting in a gunfight.

**Farr2rich- **Glad you liked the fight, and I'm glad that you're going to let me use your idea. I can say that it won't happen to Jak, but you can rest assured that before all is said and done, someone will be missing an arm, and while I was planning on giving that person a cybernetic limb, the idea of morph-gun installed in it sounds like it would make for a nasty little surprise, (rubs hands together gleefully). As far as Dark Jak is concerned, it is a being that was created by the Dark Eco inside our Channeler, but its taking on a personality of its own. As for why Jak isn't absorbing any Dark Eco yet, well, that will be explained in a few chapters. As for the Channeler that assaulted the nest, you should be able to figure out his identity after this chapter.

To those of you who read the story but didn't review, I sincerely hope that it was worth your time and effort to look over the work of this amateur.

To all lawyers reading this, sorry to disappoint you, but I entertain no delusions of owning anything of this story except the thus far one character that I have created, so don't even think about throwing a lawsuit my way.

Anyway, on with the story. (resumes humming).

* * *

&

* * *

Repercussions

Sig whistled a strange tune as he cleaned up the Hip-Hog. Their newest employee, a blonde haired elf named Tess, had been given the evening off, and that had left him to clean up after the late night customers. The Wastelander was forced to suppress a smile as he thought about her, and the little ditz act that she had put on in order to get hired. It was all a front, a sham, and he knew why. She was here to watch Krew.

After all, being a spy himself, it wasn't hard for him to recognize one of his own kind.

A quick glance up at the clock revealed it to be about two twenty in the morning. He looked over his work, nearly finished, the Precursors be praised for that.

However, as he walked towards the rear of the place to double check that the alcohol and other beverages were safely stored away, he heard a creaking sound, and he realized that he'd forgotten to lock the main door. He frowned and turned around to tell the person to leave.

"I'm sorry, but the bar is…" he started.

The massive Wastelander never finished his sentence, as his brain was having trouble processing the image in front of him. Jak stood there, looking like an elven Popsicle. Ice covered him from head to toe, and his skin was a pale blue, a clear indication that hypothermia had set it. Further more, his clothes looked like they had been burned…and for that matter, as if someone had used them for target practice.

"Sweet mother of Mar!" the enforcer exclaimed. "Jak, what the hell happened to you?"

"I took a dip in the harbor." he growled, and Sig could tell that he was _pissed_ about something.

"And you're still alive how?" the armored elf blurted our before he could stop himself.

"Old family secret." Jak snarled, his tone warning Sig that he was treading on dangerous ground.

Sig, having seen Jak in combat, even if he didn't have a clue as to what the dark elf was capable of, wisely decided to let the subject drop. It was then, that he finally seemed to realize the former Channeler's situation.

"Come on," he said, keeping a level head, "we need to get you into something dry, and you're going to need to get warmed up, or you will most definitely be indulging in your mortality."

"Just show me where I can find a change of clothes and I'll be fine." the Eco infused elf responded, removing his coat, where it hit the floor with an audible crack.

"Fair enough," Sig muttered, somewhat alarmed by the smaller elf's nonchalance over his condition.

Quickly directing Jak to a small storage closet in the back, where Krew conveniently had some clothes on hand for his men, for when they went on longer missions for him. These, while not a perfect fit, would suffice for the moment.

However, Sig felt his eyes, real and mechanical widen suddenly when the dark elf removed his shirt, and tore a good portion of it on a large piece of black metal that he hadn't noticed, as it had blended in quite well with the color of his clothing.

"Ummm, Jak?" Sig breathed.

"Yeah, Sig?" Jak acknowledged, not turning around.

"I don't mean to alarm you, but there is a gods-awfully huge hunk of metal sticking out of your back."

Wordlessly, the former Channeler reached back with his left hand, fishing around until he felt the shrapnel, which had come half an inch from bisecting his spine. A frown made its way over his face as he realized that his body had caused his skin to heal back up and make a nice little seal around the piece of what had once been part of a speeder bike. This meant that he was going to have to rip one more hole in his body tonight. Snarling at yet another unpleasant turn of events, he grabbed the shrapnel, twisted it slightly, and then literally tore it from his back.

Once again, Sig found his mental capacities somewhat lacking, as Dark Eco splattered on his armor. There was a slight hissing, as the toxic substance ate away at a small bit of the metal. However, he ignored it, his attention being more riveted upon the Dark Eco dripping from the jagged alloy that the dark elf had ripped out of his back, and probably even more so, upon the blackish purple/red substance that was currently spilling down out of the puncture wound.

"Never even felt that one." Jak suddenly mused, doing little to ease the tension that had filled the room.

"I…I think I'll just go and get the first aid kit." Sig stated, his voice shaking slightly.

"Don't bother." Jak responded instantly.

The dark elf then reached back, and wiped away the Eco, leaving Sig to gape as he saw the former Channeler's back, his skin now unmarred. As a Wastelander, Sig had once boasted that he had seen just about everything there was to see in this wide world, and he now found himself making some slight revisions to that boast. Adding to that was the fact that this was definitely getting chalked up on his top ten list of weirdest-things-I-ever-saw.

Slipping a shirt on, the Eco infused elf turned back around to regard the enforcer, his glowing eyes seeming to pierce his soul in a way that Sig found most uncomfortable. More to remove himself from this awkward situation than anything else, the burly elf turned around, and muttered something about making some coffee.

* * *

Jak was sitting down on a stool in front of the bar, with Sig standing right behind it. The two of them drank their coffee in silence, as they had for the past half an hour. 

"So…" the Wastelander muttered, placing his mug down.

"You want to know what I am." Jak responded, not looking up.

The sheer bluntness of the dark elf's response was sufficient to throw him off guard, and the spy found himself at a temporary loss for words, and was able to do nothing more than nod dumbly.

"You're not the first one to ask that." the former Channeler said, answering the unspoken question. "It's a long story, though, and I don't think you'd be very interested in it."

"Does it look like I'm going anywhere anytime soon?" Sig shot back, finally locating his voice.

"Fair enough," Jak responded, "my story begins a long way away from here, in a small costal village named Sandover."

Sig's eye expanded a bit upon hearing the name mentioned, and the expression on his face changed slightly, a minor detail that did not go unnoticed by the dark elf.

* * *

Some two or so odd hours later, Jak finally finished his tale. Sig scratched his chin, musing over what to make of it. Part of him wanted to think that being in the harbor had damaged the dark elf's brain. After all, his claiming to be from Sandover was absurd, not to mention this whole "Rift Rider" business. But then, he was very much telling the truth about these Dark Eco treatments, which also meant that he wasn't kidding about being a Channeler, as the Wastelander knew without a shadow of a doubt, that no ordinary elf could have ever survived such treatments. In the end, he didn't really know why at the time, but he decided to take the dark elf at his word.

At the same time, the Eco infused warrior sitting directly opposite of him was wondering why in the world he had just fessed up a good portion of his recent life story to Sig. Though, he had been quite careful to leave out the whole part about Errol's sadistic "education" methods.

A yawn suddenly erupted from his throat, and despite the amount of caffeine he had ingested in an attempt to warm himself back up, he knew that fatigue was going to claim him soon. It was strange, as he didn't just feel tired, but drained as well, like something was missing from within him. And so, without another word to the large Wastelander, he grabbed his gun and blade, got up, and slipped over to a booth, whereupon he promptly shut his eyes. Within minutes, his breathing had evened out, and he had passed into the realm of dreams, his hands still having a death grip upon Kitetsu 

But, as it seemed to be every time slumber overcame him, the former Channeler found no peace and comfort within the depths of his subconscious.

* * *

As always, he had no idea where he was, only the faint hinting of recollection, the vague idea that he should recognize this place, and the people within it. Once again, that mysterious stranger fought with his own shadow, and the dark elf's expression was filled with awe and wonder at this almost perfect warrior.

How long the dream continued like that, he could not recall, but with a mighty upswing, the enigmatic fighter ending his routine. In a blur, the blade, his blade, Kitetsu, was sheathed within the scabbard, and the warrior's head twisted, staring at something. Jak followed the gaze, and beheld a small child, a boy no more than four years old, jumping up and down cheering, though no sound left his lips. Then the boy bolted forward, running and leaping into the elder's arms. The warrior whirled about, silent laughter filling the air as he held the child close.

It was then that he recognized the boy; it was Alex, the young heir to the throne. That could only mean that this warrior was none other than King Damas himself.

Why? He thought to himself, what was so important about this, and for that matter, what the heck did this…vision…have to do with him?

It was then that more elves walked onto the scene. In the lead was a female elf, dressed in a simple, but still regal, dress, with her green hair tied back in a pony-tail. One step behind her, was another armored elf, and it took Jak a few seconds to recognize him, mostly because he still had his entire face. Rage sized him, and for a moment, he almost lunged at Praxis, before he remembered that this was, most unfortunately, not reality.

He also noticed the two guards flanking them, encased from head to toe in some type of grey armor, with splashes of black adorning the one on the right, while the other had orange patches on various different areas. However, what truly made these guards look the part of fearsome, was their helmets. While the Krimzon Guards had visors that covered their upper faces, these guys sported a fully covering helmet, with a fairly wide T-shaped slit for them to see out of, which glowed an otherworldly blue.

Returning his attention to the more easily identifiable elves, he watched as a mute conversation took place between them, and when it was over, Damas handed the boy over to the elf that was apparently his mother, if the way her eyes radiated affection was any indication. A brief kiss was shared between the warrior and his wife, much to the disgust of the boy caught between them. Damas grinned, and ruffled his son's hair affectionately. The king then turned and clapped Praxis on his shoulder in a comradely manner, before the two of them left, the guards falling into step behind them.

The scene changed, and this time, he saw only a lone elf, that same grey and black armored one as before, charging down a corridor of the palace. Having spent so long in dangerous situations, Jak had developed something of a sixth sense, an instinctive knowledge of when things were wrong, almost like an internal alarm system. Apparently, it still functioned here, as every fiber of his body was screaming that there was something not right. His thoughts were confirmed moments later, as bolts of Eco flew by the elf, coming from the rifles of soldiers in blood red armor. 

As the Krimzon Guard charged up behind the lone elf, the grey armored one suddenly put on a burst of speed, and approaching a large, ornate double door, promptly dove forward. The doors opened, and balling up, the elf slide through. No sooner did he clear it, than it slammed shut again.

Once again, his view changed, and he found himself inside the room the guard had just launched himself into. He was surprised to find the room very much occupied, and even more so to discover that he was in the throne room of the palace, if the large pair of high-backed, bejeweled chairs were any indication.

The Queen and Alex were present, as were several dozen soldiers, most of them wearing blue armor and currently doing their best to barricade the door, but a handful of them were also incased in that strange grey gear as well. What truly surprised Jak, was the fact that there were also some in the room that the same colored armor as the aggressors.

He turned his attention back to the monarch and the grey armored one. Words he couldn't hear were exchanged, and a change came over the Queen. She sighed, and the boy at her feet clamped on to one of her legs, tears of fright springing to life in his eyes. With a sorrowful smile, she picked her son up, and gently cradled him in her arms, kissing him on the forehead softly and stroking his hair. An icy chill shot through the warrior's stone heart, as realized what was happening, and what had yet to occur.

Still clutching her son tightly, the Queen of Haven spoke once more, and a change in posture came over the soldier she was addressing. He stiffened, and thumped a titanium covered fist against his chest, before gesturing out to the other troopers present. While he couldn't hear what was going on, the former Channeler knew that a glare from the monarch shut the soldier up, and the fire in her eyes testified to both her determination and authority. He knew that she was ordering the armored guard to do something, and an instant later, he found out what that something was.

The dark elf's surprise was genuine, when she thrust her son out to the grey armored warrior, catching him off guard as well. He seemed to protest, waving his arms, until another glare silenced him. Reluctantly, he accepted the boy, shifting his rifle over to where it was held in a single hand. As he was doing so, two more of the grey soldiers walked up, one with green stripes on his equipment, and the other having what looked like a bloody handprint plastered on his helmet.

The second one held out his own weapon, what appeared to be a smaller sub-machinegun, and a bandolier of power packs to go with it, to the one holding the prince, and the two traded. Then, the other two walked over to the thrones, and pushed them away from the wall. From nowhere, a small door, barely four feet high and two wide opened up, an escape route. Apparently realizing what was about to happen, the boy in the soldier's arms struggled and squirmed, trying to get free, reaching out for his mother. Tears slipped down the cheeks of both, as the armored trooper bent down and crawled inside.

Still not understanding, but filled with some inexplicable grief, the former Channeler watched as a lift carried the child out of sight, and the door resealed itself. No sooner did that happen, than the room shook, and a silent explosion blew the door open. There was a hail of Eco from both sides, and Jak's world went dark once more.

* * *

He awoke, screaming, Kitetsu making its way into his hand and moving outward in an arc. There was a strange noise, like a machine straining, and the dark katana hissed and sank into the wall of the booth, penetrating a good three feet before the Eco infused elf could stop his swing. For several seconds, he remained where he was, he eyes wide and blinking, but seeing nothing. Only when he heard an ominous growling, did he manage to shake his head, and clear his vision.

The scene that met the glaciers of his eyes was one that was extremely comical. Krew hovered a short distance away from him, his own breath coming in a combination of short gasps and angry pants, and his face, from his close set eyes to his half a dozen or so chins, was beet red. It was after a few seconds that Jak managed to put two and two together, and the urge to laugh nearly overcame his willpower.

He realized that the sound he had heard had been Krew's hoverlift protesting his sudden evacuation of the area around the dark elf, and that he had come likely enough within inches of giving the crime boss a samurai style liposuction.

"You know, I normally don't take kindly to people who try to do me in." the zeppelin of a man replied.

Jak merely shot him a glare, something no one else in their right mind would do to him. However, it wasn't as if the former Channeler did not have a good reason to be pissed. After all, he had only come literally within inches of striking down to one responsible for taking so much from him, only to have a brigade of commandos show up and ruin things, and been forced to jump into a harbor in the middle of a blizzard. Not to mention the fact that he had been shot, torched, and pumped full of shrapnel. Add to that a noticeable lack of decent sleep in the form of yet more nightmares, and you had a very dangerous individual on your hand, particularly when that individual also happens to have an inner demon capable of putting fear into the heart of a Metal Head.

Needless to say, the dark elf found himself severely tempted to simply jump up and finish what he had accidentally started.

Of course, Krew was for once, ignorant as to what the teenager opposite of him was capable of unleashing, and so also toyed with the idea of having an "accident" arranged for him. However, much as it amused him, his calculating mind immediately squelched that thought, as it realized that bumping off such a valuable part time employee would not be the wisest course of action.

"What?" Jak finally inquired, his voice cold enough to practically freeze the air around him.

"It's almost opening time," the floating blob replied, "and it wouldn't exactly be enticing for customers to come and see you lying there like some homeless bum."

"Ahhh, Krew, cut him some slack," Sig said, suddenly coming in from the back, "he's had a rough night, and went to a lot of trouble to try and help you out."

"How so?" the bar owner asked, pivoting his hoverlift around to where he could see his enforcer.

"Tried to make a certain ruler shorter by a good six feet." the Wastelander replied smoothly.

"You tried to "remove" the Baron from office?" Krew said, his one good eye cocking at the dark elf.

"Tried being the key word, unfortunately." Jak muttered, just loud enough for Krew to hear him. "I was this close," he gestured with his fingers, "to putting a blade through his gut, when his loyal sociopath showed up with a small army at his back."

"Interesting." Krew mused, falling silent, the cogs within his mind whirring at he tried to figure out how to turn this to his advantage.

"Scheme all you want, Krew, I could care less at the moment." the former Channeler growled, before turning to Sig. "You got any coats stored back there? I'd rather not hoof it all the way back with these things hanging out in plain sight." he asked, gesturing to his gun and katana.

The Wastelander nodded his head, and disappeared for a few seconds, only to return with a trench coat that was nearly identical to the one the dark elf had been wearing when he'd stumbled in. Quickly pulling it on as he walked out the door, the Eco infused warrior headed for "home", his mind adrift.

* * *

The look in Torn's eyes screamed of nearly wanting to kill him, and he could frankly care less. Vaguely, he could also hear him shouting at him, but the words were lost upon the former Channeler, as he was busy attempting to figure out a way to finish what he had gone out to do. Suddenly, though, the tattooed commander apparently realized that the elf standing across from him wasn't paying attention, and so he got up in Jak's face.

"Listen to me when I'm talking to you!" he shouted, yanking him out of his musings, and causing him to glare at the Ex-Delta. "Do you have any idea how much you put in jeopardy by running off last night?"

"The base, the Underground movement itself, and one pint sized heir to the throne." the dark elf replied calmly, counting off on his fingers.

"And yet you went and did it anyway?" Torn exclaimed, his tone becoming even more anger filled, if that was possible.

Slowly, the former Channeler detached himself from the wall, and pacing forward ominously, he spoke to the Underground commander, his own voice dropping to an angry hiss.

"Let's get one thing straight, and let's get it straight now, Torn." Jak said, his burning eyes boring into Torn's. "I don't give a damn about you little freedom movement, or this city, or anyone in it!" he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but carrying an undeniable power. "I wasn't born here, and I have no loyalty to your dead king or his kid! I'm in this for vengeance and you guys are just a means to an end, nothing more!"

"You're just lucky my boss has more patience than I do, buster!" Torn retaliated, his voice considerably louder. "Cause if it were up to me, you'd be out on your rear right now!" the Ex-Delta paused, collecting his breath, trying to calm himself. "The Shadow, however, has opted to give you another chance."

"Which would be?" Jak inquired, wondering if this might be a way to blow of some steam without losing some allies.

"There's a lot of Metal Head activity in the forest lately, and the Shadow's having difficulty keeping everything under control." Torn informed him, his voice still having an edge to it. "So, I want you to put your temper to good use, waltz out there, and kill every last one of the blasted things."

The dark elf standing in front of him remained silent, before muttering a quick "fine", and whirling about, heading out of the door. As it opened, a depressed looking Daxter was found standing there, having heard everything that had just happened. Quietly, he tagged along behind his friend, leaving Torn to sit down in a chair, and rub his forehead.

At the far end of the room, another door opened, and a diminutive figure walked in, leaning heavily upon a staff.

"I don't know why you're doing this, Sir," he muttered, not even bothering to look up, "you heard him, he's a liability, not an asset. A lose cannon just waiting to be set off."

"Did you think such things about him when he saved you and Ashelin out at the pumping station?" the Shadow shot back, his voice probing. "Do not be so quick to judge him, Torn, you cannot see what I can, cannot sense what is beyond his chilled exterior."

"What do you mean, Sir?" the Ex-Delta asked, confusion laced into his voice.

"I sensed the darkened soul of a once vibrant and noble young elf, Torn. He has been wounded, and it is a wound I am not familiar with, despite my training in the healing arts." the older elf replied, earning him a confused look, upon which he decided to elaborate. "It's as if his very soul has been damaged, and I fear it is beyond my knowledge or ability to heal, whatever it is. I think he will have to find the cure on his own."

The leader of the resistance forces turned about to leave, before pausing suddenly.

"Torn, one more thing, I don't want him working on this assignment alone, not in the condition that he's in. I want you to send another one of our people out to assist him." he paused, deep in thought, before snapping his fingers. "Our resident mechanical genius ought to do well enough."

"But, Sir," Torn protested, "that could compromise her undercover mission, are you sure…"

"It is in no more danger of exposing her than what she is already doing, and I do believe she will be capable of handling herself, especially when paired up with him." the Shadow said. "Besides, we could eliminate two birds with one stone, you know those reports indicated that several Cloakers were running around out there as well. Go tell her in person, that way you can be sure she doesn't have the wrong kind of company over when you try to tell her about her new orders."

"I understand, Samos." the haggard commander responded, rising up from his seat.

* * *

&

* * *

Sooooooo, what do you think of it? I hope that this one was up to par with what you were expecting, and feel free to tell me otherwise. I also apologize if I am doing anything especially cliché in this one as well. On another note, feel free to take a stab at the identity of the mystery soldier you saw.

As for me, I am off to resume my studies of that infernal subject known only to mortals as Chemistry, and I have a lot more tests coming up, so I am not sure when the next update will be. Until then, have a great day, and if the mood takes you, leave a comment in the form of constructive criticism, idea, flame, or anything else.

See you next time.

Red Mage 04


	13. A Look Within

Hello people, it's good to see you all once again, and I do hope you're having a good day. This is just a quick update before I go back to studying for my upcoming math test, but hopefully, you will enjoy it.

To those of you who have been kind enough to review.

**Shakai- **Yeah, poor Jak's in a pretty bad mood right now, and things are only going to go downhill for a little while, but don't worry, he'll be back to his old self before everything is said and done.

**Farr2rich-** I'm sorry to hear about what happened to your story, I had that happen to me once, and it is not a pleasant experience. I am glad that you think I'm doing alright, and as far as D.J. is concerned, he's changing simply because he is watching the interactions of his host and everyone around him, almost like how an infant learns if you will. Dark or Light Eco have nothing to do with the changes occurring with him, though I can tell you that a large influx of Dark Eco will at one point have a very profound effect upon him.

**Lunatic Pandora1- **Ahh, so you have also played DMC 3, and yeah that scene was frigging hilarious, to watch Dante then start to use said scythes to beat the crap out of those demons while chowing down on a slice of pizza, that scene had me laughing till it hurt. As far as his butt kicking for goodness is concerned, just give him a little bit of time, and he'll come around, but he's going to be bitter for the next few chapters.

**Evil Manic- **Hmmm, I suppose that when put in that perspective, one might say that the Arbiter did have an influence, as far as the whole revenge thing is concerned. Thanks for the grapple beam idea, I won't say much about it, but I will say that it's going to be used, and I'll try to think of a way to put that limit break into the story as well. Thanks again.

**SeventhSpanishAngel12- **Hehe, glad that you liked it, and I hope you enjoy this chapter as well.

**Light Eco Sage- **Sleep, the one thing we never can seem to get enough of. Oh, well, glad that you liked the chapter, and I hope that you enjoy this one as well.

**Dude- **Well, it's great to know that my first reviewer is still hanging around and reading this, and even better that you like the twists and such that I'm putting in here. As far as updates are concerned, I try to keep mine to about a week or two, provided writer's block doesn't get in the way (growls softly).

**DarkStarPhoenix- **Glad that you like the approach that I'm taking with D.J. And yes, I have played Jak 3, started (and beat) it last weekend. I must say, I think that the second game was much better. This one was just to short (beat it in under nine hours) and easy (the only mission I ever really failed was the ones where you were driving around in that little Precursor hover car). There were also a few plot holes that I noticed, such as Errol's unexplained return from the dead, and the whole Precursors are Ottsels thing (don't get me wrong, I thought that plot twist was funny as heck, but that doesn't explain what the 'Glow Boy' was who came out of the Stone at the end of number two). Not to mention the ending left me a little disappointed. At any rate, I'm ranting again, so to get back on track, the dream that Jak was having was his mind trying to psychologically put his memory of the coup back together, but things got a little twisted. As far as the "dark elf" and other such things, I had an English teacher (nut) back in about the forth grade that used to make my essays literally swim in red ink because I kept using the same word to identify something, and my current writing is a result of that. As to why I keep calling him a dark elf, I've actually heard him referred to that several times, probably due to the Eco inside of him. Anyway, glad you liked the story, and I hope you like this chapter too.

**Something Stupid- **Ahhh, the MA5B assault rifle, the only rifle in gaming history less accurate than a shot-gun at long range. But you're right, a high rate of fire weapon would be a good thing, and I think I know how to incorporate one into this story. You're right about the Vulcan, though I can tell you that it will make an appearance here, in the "old painless" style (hint for anyone whose seen the original Predator movie). You're pretty much right about the whole Dark Eco taking over thing, and you're spelling is fine, I don't even want to know what mine would look like were it not for that miracle called spell-check. Glad you liked it, and please let me know what you think of this one.

To everyone else, I hope you have found this to be worth you're time and effort, and that it has not caused you to vomit in disgust at the lack of quality found here.

To the lawyers, look guys, if I owned anything here, you can better believe that it would have been in the game, so can you please understand that? Good.

Another word of warning, Keira will likely enough be OOC during this story, as I think that she probably would have changed considering that she spent more than two years alone in Haven City.

And now, on with the story, may you find it worth your while.

* * *

&

* * *

A look Within

With one eye staring through a magnification lens, and her tongue stuck out to one side, Keira deftly went about the painstaking process of micro welding the last circuit into the computer chip. Once she was done, she smiled, and carefully put it into a holder, which would ensure that noting ill fated befell it.

She smiled, proud of her accomplishment. There was just something about building things, it gave her a high, almost as if it were a drug. While not nearly as harmful as a narcotic, it did have the positive effect of causing her to be able to temporarily forget the hell that she was currently in. While constructing machines, be they zoomer or gun, she found herself whisked away to a blissful limbo, not distracted by the harshness of reality, or the longing she felt for her lost companions.

Painful as it was for her to admit it, she was beginning to lose hope. In a few months, she would have spent a grand total of three years in this Precursor forsaken dump. Where was Jak? Where was he when she needed him? Had he died, been taken by the K.G. on some trumped up offense? And what of Daxter and her father? What cruel fate had befallen them? Which was to say nothing of the hardships that she had been through prior to her managing to land a job as a mechanic.

Oh, how she cursed the day she had ever found that accursed machine that had brought them here.

Keira sighed bitterly, resolving to herself that she would be strong, that she would persevere, no matter what. They had to be alive, they just had to be. The little group that she had been a part of had been through too much together to perish in this wasteland called Haven City. Forcing herself to think in a more positive manner, she imagined a reunion between herself, Jak, her father, and even Daxter. There would be tears, embraces, and more than a few wisecracks on the part of the smallest member of the quartet. She'd pull her father close, give Dax an affectionate pat on the head, and lose herself in the eyes of a certain blond haired Channeler.

Her thoughts were most rudely interrupted by a knocking on the door that led from the garage to her apartment. Grumbling at this distraction from the one hope that she clung to, she made her way her way to the portal. Arriving amidst more knocking, she looked through the small viewing hole in the door. On the other side, was a heavily clothed figure. A muffler was wound around the elf's face, and a hood pulled low over his or her visage. Abruptly, the person looked up, and she recognized the eyes instantly.

Letting out an inaudible sigh of relief, she opened the door, and the person hastily stepped inside. Closing the door behind him, Kiera stared back as Torn removed his scarf, allowing her to see the tattoos that covered most of his face.

"What brings you here in the middle of the day, Torn?" she asked, wondering what could be so important as to yank him away from the raids and such, in broad daylight no less.

"New orders from the Shadow." he responded, his voice controlled and even.

"Okay, shoot." the mechanic responded, leaning against a wall of the hallway.

"Scouting reports are coming in about major league Metal Head activity in the forest around Haven, and the Shadow wants em not too kindly removed." he told her.

"What types of monsters are we dealing with here?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow at the Underground commander.

"According to the reports, which the Shadow has backed up, we're looking at a full scale combat force. Grunts, Drones, Centurions, Scouts, Crab Heads, and a few Cloakers are all running around out there." he responded, his voice grave.

"And our boss expects me to take these guys on single handedly?" Keira asked incredulously.

"You won't be working alone this time, Keira." was Torn's answer, and she could detect a bit of uneasiness within his voice.

"Don't tell me I'm gonna be babysitting a bunch of newbies, please, Torn, I don't need anymore stress right now." she groaned, massaging her forehead with her fingers.

"Just the opposite." the Ex-Delta said, causing her to stare up at him, her brow furrowed. "You're being paired up with a proverbial one elf army for this one."

"Hard to imagine that phrase coming from you." she said with a smirk, "But if that's the case, why are you sounding so uneasy?"

"Cause this guy's combat skills are matched only by his personal issues." the haggard soldier answered.

"One of those mad at the world types, eh?" Keira said, frowning.

"In a sense, yeah, but I think it's more complicated than that." Torn responded, earning him yet another look. "Just don't make him mad, whatever you do." he explained.

With those cryptic words, Torn covered himself back up and was out the door, leaving the mechanic to her thoughts. These once again drifted to those that she had lost. However, they were quickly placed within the depths of her subconscious. From what the Underground commander had told her, she would need all her wits about her, and more than a little luck, if she wanted to make it out of this one with the least amount of pain and suffering possible.

As the young mechanic detached herself from the wall, she went over the possible list of equipment combinations that would be the best for this given scenario. Torn had said that there were Cloakers present, so that made thermal goggles priority number one, as well as a smaller weapon, as she would need to kill one of them without messing up its gear too much. Scouts, well, those flying freaks were fast, and they had incredible senses, which made getting close enough to shoot them quite difficult. Fortunately for her, she had just finished a mod that would quickly turn her into their worst nightmare. And she had a strong reason to believe that it would work quite well on the Crab Head commanders as well. As for the Grunts and Drones, they were standard front line troopers, so a sub-machinegun ought to do well enough against them. Add to that an RPG launcher in the event of much needed crowd control, and a battle rifle for dealing with the Centurions, comboed up with a DCs-15 pistol for the Cloakers, and she would be covered as far as ranged combat was concerned.

And if the enemy decided to get a little friendly, they would find that this soft-spoken little tech-head had a very mean left hook, thanks to the ingenuity of her talents. With her choice of arms decided, Keira made her way to that locked room in the back of her apartment, and after dealing with the security measures, stepped inside.

She quickly grabbed the long barreled morph-gun, and searching about, located the chips that she was looking for, slapping them into the weapon. Switching the weapon to its sub-machinegun mode for easier concealability, she walked over to another workbench, taking a couple of pairs of infrared goggles, one for her, and another in the event that her mystery partner didn't have one of his own.

Her attention was then drawn to a somewhat crude manikin in the corner, upon which was a set of armor that she had made for herself. It was a style of lightweight ballistics shielding, not affording as much protection as the K.G. suits, covering just the upper chest, shins, and head, but it allowed for considerably more flexibility. Which was just fine in her book, as she considered the best defense not getting shot in the first place. It also had the hidden advantage of being able to be concealed in the average large backpack.

However, it was the gauntlets that came with the suit that were what she considered to be among her greatest technological achievements.

But she would get more than enough time to use them later, so right now she busied herself by packing everything up inside the backpack that she had stored in here for just such occasions. Once the armor, ammo, and her primary gun were inside, she headed back out to the main area of the apartment, stopping just long enough to nab a pistol and her latest mod-chip on her way out.

Once back in her living room, she donned a heavy winter jacket, stuffed the pistol inside, and grabbed her jet-board. Zooming around on that thing, the average Krimzon Guard would think her nothing more than a typical, every day teenager going to hang out with her group of friends, as such things did happen on a regular basis, despite the current political state of the city. They would have absolutely no clue as to the deadly nature of the person who zipped past them.

* * *

Meanwhile, in Haven Forest, a speeder bike came to a halt, and the imposing figure on it got off. Leaving the zoomer where it was, Jak drew both of his weapons and marched forward resolutely, his knuckles white around the grips of blade and blaster, as he prepared himself to deal out some very brutal deaths to the creatures running amok in the woodlands.

Behind him, Daxter followed, the loyal friend that he was. Though the Ottsel never voiced it, he was seriously concerned about what was happening to his best friend. If, three years ago, someone had approached him and told him the change that would come over the dark elf, try to convince him that Jak would become this icy, stoic person who seemed to exist only to bring about his enemies' downfall, regardless of the cost, he would have given that person a strange look and assumed that they'd been hitting the Juma Juice a wee bit much.

But then, reality could care less what he thought. That lesson, if nothing else, had been driven into him time and time again. Still, he determined that he would stick around no matter what. He knew that he was not the bravest individual, despite his big talk and bravado. However, regardless of his cowardice, the furry former elf knew that he would be there when Jak needed him, knew that he could do no less for the one who had gone to such lengths to try and restore his humanity.

His thoughts also went over to Tess. He had only known the blond haired female for a short while, not counting their first, somewhat awkward meeting, but there was something about her that drove away his depression over his current physical form. Not to mention, there was a faint, inexplicable flutter in his heart every time she laughed at one of his jokes, and answered with a few on her own. It was an emotion that the rodent couldn't explain, and it honestly scared him to a slight degree.

Jak's mindset was also drifting, much as the warrior tried to prevent such things from happening. Ironically, at almost the same time Keira was thinking about him, the thought of her occupied his mind's eye. Once again, he wondered what she would think of him, what her reaction would be once she discovered that he wasn't the innocent little boy that he used to be. He was a different person now, changed by this hellish place, and he knew that the change was not for the better. He was a fighter, a killer, someone who had forsaken his innocence completely and utterly.

But, was there no turning back? Had he fallen beyond the point of redemption? His mind was of two points about it, one part of it, a small remnant of the boy that had grown up in Sandover, seemed to be pleading within him for him to give up all of the hatred that he had created within himself. The other, clichéd as it was, seemed to want him to embrace the darkness within himself, to use the hatred as a weapon, to let it lend him strength as it had when he had nearly struck down Praxis.

For once, Jak was at a loss for what to do. He certainly didn't like what he had become, but then, he knew without a shadow of a doubt, that had he chosen to remain the boy, rather than evolve into the warrior, he'd either be dead, or worse, he'd have been broken at the hands of Errol.

Errol, his hatred for that tattooed psycho was almost arriving at the point where it would surpass Praxis. Yes, Praxis had been the one to authorize the abduction of his humanity, to first flip the switch that started the injections, the one to rob him of his gift. But Errol, he had been the one who had tried to break him.

The sociopath's way of doings things had started off simple enough, the usual sicing of lackeys upon him, letting the Krimzon Guards who got stuck on prison duty vent their frustrations upon his body in the form of their fists and whatnot. However, once he had started to heal quickly due to the treatments, things really started to get bad. While Baron Praxis may have just shrugged and forgotten about it after the novelty of watching near instantaneous healing wore off, Errol had come to realize that his little play-toy wouldn't be dying on him any time soon. This had rapidly lead up to some rather sophisticated and very much more painful means of trying to crush the former Channeler's spirit.

Though the skin and flesh had long since healed, the dark elf had memorized where every scar had been, where every blow had been struck, where any blade had pierced his skin. Sometimes, in his mind's eye, he drew up the image of what he would have looked like had he not been "blessed" with this unnatural regeneration.

The image never failed to call forth a burst of pure, unadulterated fury and raw, passionate hatred towards those he despised.

Still, in the end, would it make a difference in what Keira thought of him, would she see past the stone and ice that he had surrounded himself with, or would she condemn him for what he had become? For that matter, would he even want her to see him? Could he even run the risk of attempting to rekindle what was once so dear to him? Dropping into Haven City had been a very cruel lesson to him, and the dark elf had learned well the harshness of this world. He was a warrior now, could he allow someone to love him? Could he let another elf feel for him, could he allow Keira to get that close? After all, both Praxis and Errol would be gunning for him even more now than they had previously. Was the joy he would feel at her embrace, the soaring his soul would experience when their lips touched, be worth the risk of putting her in harm's way?

So distracted was he by this dilemma, that he almost didn't notice a Grunt attempting to get the drop on him.

* * *

Torn was nearing the slums, and that couldn't have made him happier. Normally, that sector of the city wasn't as heavily patrolled by the K.G. as the rest.

After all, Praxis had eventually grown weary of loosing his men to snipers hiding in the ramshackle buildings and from back alley ambushes.

However, his relief suddenly evaporated, and was instead replaced by that strange tension that all soldiers got when they saw the enemy. For a reason he wasn't able to fathom, and was quite suspicious of, Commander Errol was waltzing about all alone, un-escorted and seemingly weaponless, within spitting distance of what was largely rebel held territory. Wary, his training kicking into overdrive, the Ex-Delta approached his target, his eyes constantly roaming about. Much to his amazement, his enemy actually began to walk over towards a darkened side street on the "wrong side of the city." Naturally, Torn was no fool, and knew that Errol wasn't one either, mental as he was. His thoughts quickly went back to his first few lessons as a member of the prestigious Delta Squad: if an enemy known for its deviousness does something incredibly stupid, it means he's setting a trap for you. That had been rule number six. Rule number seven also came to mind: a trap is only a trap if you don't see it coming.

Torn's eyes combed the buildings, looking for snipers, while a rudimentary scan around him showed no K.G., armored, or plainclothes. As for how he knew about the latter, well, Delta's had been trained to be highly observant, and he had been no exception to that rule. He had long ago realized that the "undercover" division of the Krimzon Guard had a rather unique way of carrying themselves when they walked, and most also suffered from the crippling problem of all having the same damn haircut.

He reached the alley that Errol had ducked into and very cautiously stuck his head around the corner, unconsciously registering the feeling of his morph gun tucked inside his jacket. Errol appeared to be alone, and had his back to him. Torn could see nothing in the alley, and let his ears focus on the world behind him, which again detected nothing out of the ordinary.

It was then that Torn made a decision, one that was very un-soldier like, but that he would do anyway. Errol had a lot to answer for, and the Ex-Delta had decided that he would gladly give his life, just to bring his dagger across this backstabbing traitor's throat.

With a flick of his wrist, said knife fell out of its sheath, and neatly into the palm of his hand. Quietly, with all the years of stealth training making him invisible to the ear, he snuck up behind the sociopath, a smile showing in his eyes. Errol was completely oblivious to his presence, taking notice in what appeared to be a bloodstain on the ground. It was only then, that Torn realized that he was in the very same alley that he had left the bodies of those five K.G. members that night he had met with Ashelin. Did this mean that Errol had returned here to look for some sort of clue as to the identity of their killer?

It was no matter, he thought, it wouldn't save him in the end. With a single movement, he clapped his hand over Errol's mouth, and placed his curved knife against the throat of his enemy, apply just the right amount of pressure to nearly pierce the skin. He was taunting the sociopath, letting him know that he was about to die.

He was thus very much surprised when Errol responded in a calm manner.

"Oh, hello there Torn, I was beginning to think that you'd never show up." the commander said snidely, his voice surprisingly clear, considering there was a hand muffling him.

"How'd you know it was me, Errol?" the Ex-Delta inquired.

"Quite simple, my overly-loyal friend," his soon to be victim responded, once again apparently heedless of the hand over his mouth, "only a Delta carries that kind of dagger, and since you're the only one left, well, that rather does limit the list, does it not?"

"I'm touched that you remember me," Torn spat, "and I'm grateful you've gone and made my job much easier."

"Now, now, let's not be too hasty, Torn," Errol said, and something his tone put him on edge, "I've taken a great risk coming all the way out here, alone and unarmed, within a stones throw of where your uncouth friends hang out…"

"Then maybe you should have considered bringing a weapon," Torn hissed, "rule number three: never enter enemy territory unarmed."

"Rule twelve," Errol countered, "never go the bargaining table without a trump card."

"What the hell could you possibly offer me?" Torn said, slightly increasing the pressure that he had on the K.G. commander's throat, and a small line of blood began to seep over the blade.

"Because if you finish that stroke, I can guarantee that you'll kill two people with one swipe." his enemy shot back, cool as ever.

"What are you talking about?" he growled.

"Let's just say that if you value the life of a certain red-haired lieutenant, you will get that dagger away from my jugular." Errol responded, his voice finally showing irritation.

"What?" Torn muttered, trying to keep his voice neutral, trying not to give his foe anything.

"Oh stop with that already." the K.G. commander said with a groan. "We know that you've been meeting with her, and that she's a spy. Now, unless you want her to meet an early demise, get your hands off me!"

Errol was instantly rewarded with the feeling of the blade being removed from his throat, and the hand taken from his mouth. He immediately backed up and turned around, where he begrudgingly admired Torn's disguise, had he not been familiar with the dagger in his hand, he would have never even recognized the former covert ops soldier.

"Now, then, I'm afraid that Praxis doesn't take kindly to traitors," Errol began, earning him a snort from the tattooed Underground fighter opposite of him, "but in the case of his own daughter, he is willing to make an exception, provided of course, that, you, are willing to cooperate."

"If you want me to sell out the location of the Underground base, then I suggest you make your peace with the gods, Errol, cause it's not happening!" Torn exclaimed raising his dagger.

"No, no, my old friend, we could care less where you and your squalid comrades decide to take up residence." the sociopath said with a wicked grin. "The Baron isn't a fool, he knows that you are after the same thing we are, and unfortunately, that you are significantly closer to finding it."

Torn remained silent, his eyes screaming hatred towards Errol, his free hand twitching, every nerve in his body wanting to kill this bastard in front of him.

"So," the K.G. commander said, and with no small amount of flourish, pulled something out of one of his pockets, "when you find out where it is, simply turn this on, and place it near it."

"And if I refuse?" the Underground fighter snarled.

"Then the Baron has given me specific orders to put a gun to Ashelin's pretty little head, and splatter her brains all over the nearest wall." Errol responded darkly as if he would very much enjoy doing such a thing, forming his hand into the shape of a firearm, and pretended to pull the trigger, an unnecessary attempt to drive his point home.

"You know," Torn seethed, "just as soon as I think you guys have hit rock bottom, you go and dig a little deeper, this is a new low, even for Praxis!"

"Perhaps," his foe responded with a shrug, "but then again, that's why we're going to come out on top, because we have no qualms about killing people to get the job done." he said, before a disgusting smile made its way to his face. "Now, if you will excuse me, there is someone I plan to drop by and have a surprise visit with."

With that, the commander actually began to hum a tune, and walked by Torn, taking special care to bump into him as he passed. This left the Ex-Delta standing their, his fury building by the second, demanding an outlet. A cry left his throat, and he slammed his dagger into the dura-crete side of the building on his left.

Once again, it seemed that he was faced with a dilemma to chose between loyalty to his heart, and loyalty to his charge, and this time, Torn had no doubt in his mind that whichever one he chose, he would be damning himself.

* * *

&

* * *

Okay, hopefully this was a nice break from the action, as that had been going on for long enough and needed a rest. As we can see, things are starting to get a little nasty for the good guys. It always bugged me how the people at Naughty Dog never explained how Torn knew about what the Baron was going to do to Ashelin, and so that's where that came from. On another note, if anyone starts to get really, really, OOC, please let me know and tell how they are so that I can correct it, thank you.

Now, feel free to leave a comment, be it criticism, flame, or anything of that nature. And also remember to have a great day.

Thanks again for your time people,

Red Mage 04


	14. Reunion

Greetings, everyone, and I hope that you are having a great day, despite the fact that it is a Monday (shudders). At any rate, I finally managed to get this chapter done, though I fear it is quite sappy and clichéd at several parts for which I apologize for in advance.

To those of you who have reviewed.

**Lunatic Pandora1- **Yes, Dante has definitely had an influence on the way Jak manages to combo slicing with shooting. However, I feel obligated to warn you that something is going to happen to Jak in a few chapters which will alter the way in which he walks all over his opponents. Basically, his fighting style will shift away from that of Dante and more towards the likes of Vergil and another even more (in)famous silver haired, trench coat sporting, katana wielding army of one. As for your idea about the K.G. body surfing, I'll try to fit that in here somewhere, though I might have to substitute a Metal Head instead.

**Shakai- **Oh, dear, God! I, hated, that part of the game, easily one of the most frustrating areas in it. As for the meeting, I'm not sure about the fun part, as Jak is still waging something of a war within himself, but there will be some fighting, I can tell you that.

**Dude- **I'm glad that you liked it, and here is your update, may you hopefully like it just as much.

**Light-Eco-Sage- **Yep, they're going to meet up with each other, though I can tell you that things won't be peachy just to start off with, as Jak has yet to conquer some inner demons, by which I do not mean D.J. Hope you like it though.

**SeventhSpanishAngel- **Yep, the plot thickens, as they say, glad that you liked it.

**Meowen-** I'm glad you think that this is worth your time, but if you want to read the works of a real artist, check out some of the stuff by Weiila or Lizzy Rebel, those two are waaaaaaaaaayyyyyy better than I'll ever be.

**Evil Manic- **Yeah, the first time I saw D.J. make an appearance, my thoughts went to the el-gotho gunslinger, all Jak needs now is a red cloak and a Freddy Kruger style left arm, hehe. As for your equation, truer words were never spoken, my friend. I'm glad that you liked the last chapter, and I would be grateful for any ideas.

**GoodMorningBeautiful2005**- I'm glad that you enjoyed the chapter, and I'll try to keep my updates fairly frequent. Hope that you like this entry as well.

To those of you who read, but did not review, I extend my thanks that you hopefully found this worth your while, and that I haven't somehow scarred you for life.

To those parasites that call themselves lawyers- As I stated in the previous Thirteen chapters, I own nothing! So leave me alone!

That done, here is the next chapter, once again, I warn you that it is probably not my best work.

* * *

&

* * *

Reunion

Keira held it within her hand. Some gave her looks as they passed, unsure of what to make of this teen who had ripped the piece of paper from the wall.

She had been skating by, trying to get to the forest to meet with her mysterious friend, when a K.G. happened to catch her attention. The red armored enforcer had been sticking something to the wall of a building. For some inexplicable reason, she had gone over to see what it was.

Now, she couldn't stop staring at the wanted poster that she had promptly grabbed as soon as she read it. Her heart and soul were a tangle of emotions as she looked over the words again and again, as they screamed in bold ink a name that she had only dared to whisper, a name that was one of three that she had clung to all these years.

The wanted poster named showed an artist's depiction of a male elf in his late teens. His blonde and green hair was swept back, and came to his shoulders. Eyes that burned with some strange inner fire stared back at her. They were set into a face that was handsome, but rugged at the same time, hardened, almost. He was depicted as wearing a blue tunic, and a black trench coat over that. His right hand was reaching down into the depths of the garment, almost as if he was pulling something out, and his left hand held a large pistol. However, the detail that was an absolute dead-giveaway, was the fuzzy orange rat on his shoulder.

Again, she read over the poster.

Subject Name: Jak

Wanted: Alive

Crime(s): Wanted on multiple counts of treason, the murdering of Krimzon Guards, destruction of military property, smuggling, attempted assassination…the list continued on, covering just about every single crime against the government that Keira knew of, and a few that she didn't, before finally finishing up with…three counts of reckless endangerment, five counts of resisting arrest with violence, and ten major traffic violations. Subject is to be considered armed and extremely dangerous.

Reward: 50,000 credits for information leading to his arrest.

A joy rose within her that she hadn't felt in what seemed like years. She had waited and hoped against hope that she would find evidence that both Jak and Daxter were alive, and here it was. And judging by the K.G.'s view of things, they had apparently been very, very busy. Still, despite her elation at knowing that the one she cared so much for was still alive, she couldn't help but wonder how he had been getting the resources for all that he had supposedly done. There were only two organizations that could have possibly given him what he had needed. The first was Krew, highly unlikely, considering that after this amount of time, that floating pile of Crisco would have sent him out to try to bully her into one thing or the other. The second was the Underground. But she still wasn't certain, as she would have thought that she would have run into him and Daxter by now if they had been in the resistance. Granted, she had been undercover, trying to obtain information from a certain commander of the military, but she still had to make stops there to drop off the data she had managed to pick up.

However, she quickly tossed such information aside as trivial, just grateful to the powers above that the Channeler was alive. She quickly hoped back up on her board, and zipped off in the direction of her mission, resolving that when she got back, she'd find him and Daxter, even if she had to tear the entire city apart to do it.

* * *

She leaned to the left, and the repulsor lifts on her hover board compensated for the sudden change in balance, which resulted in her neatly avoiding a large tree that had been in her path. While she may have appeared to have all her concentration focused on piloting the at times unstable board, she was in truth distracted. She just couldn't help it, her thoughts kept drifting to the joyous find she had made, and now the nervous anticipation of what Jak and her fuzzy friend would think when the saw her next.

Haven had changed her in many unpleasant ways. It hadn't been easy to try to survive at first, being a teenage girl in the city, all alone with no one to help her. But after her second day, she was forced to make a decision that would alter her life forever. She would either have to evolve into something stronger than she was, something more dangerous, or she would likely enough become one of the many unknown people who were found dead in a gutter every day. She had opted for the former.

She learned to fight back against the dregs of society. Changing every day, ever darker, ever stronger, she became in many ways what most would consider a wild animal. She scraped it out with and beat others in similar situations for the right to sleep in what little shelter could be found and what meager amounts of food could be scrounged up. She learned how to sneak by guards and how to steal from a more affluent looking elf without them even realizing they'd just been robbed. And further more, many a would be mugger or worse had learned at high cost, that her small frame and slight build covered up a spirit that had become as tenacious as the metal clad monstrosities that lurked just outside the relative safety of Haven City's walls.

She'd spent almost half a year in that hellish lifestyle, until salvation had arrived in a most unlikely form. The mechanic's thought dwelt briefly on Tess, and she wondered what she might have been doing, or even if she would still be drawing air, had the Underground member not discovered her in an alley one night, licking her wounds from a rather vicious encounter with a slum dwelling psychopath. The Underground had taken her in, and nursed her back to full health. Needless to say, once she had come to understand that nothing bad was gong to befall her, a good part of her old self began to return, though the hardened warrior inside her most definitely remained. Once that happened, she had become quite grateful to the Underground, and had quickly endeavored to prove their generosity worth their while, fixing and in many cases improving the limited supply of vehicles that they had available to them.

She had also managed to discover that she had an affinity for technological weapons, and to this day, she considered the morph-gun to be one of her greatest achievements, a sentiment that many a resistance soldier would agree with. And then of course, there were the enormous numbers of Krimzon Guard's she had heard, Errol himself included, who had cursed the "miserable little traitor" who provided the Underground with those mysterious blasters. To know that she ranked so high on their list of people to whack, well, it was gratifying, to say the least. With a little bit of luck, she might soon be adding to that list, and earn a few more curses from the tyrant's men. That was of course, provided things didn't get FUBAR today.

She snapped out of her drifting thoughts as she made another turn, and noticed a speeder bike parked against a tree. She skated up next to it, and hopped off her board, whereupon she noticed a set of tracks in the snow, heading east of her current position. Curious to see what she could make of her enigmatic ally, as she couldn't think of anyone else in their right mind that'd be out in Metal Head infested woods in the dead of winter, she bent down, and began to examine them.

Her "friend" was of a fairly tall height and medium build, judging from the length of his stride and the depth of the tracks. He was also traveling light, lighter than she was. They also appeared to be relatively fresh, no more than half an hour old, which meant he couldn't be that far ahead of her.

It was then that something else caught her eye, a second set of… what appeared to be paw prints, were following the first. They were so small and their impressions so faint that even her trained eye had almost missed them. Whatever had made then looked as if it had been built like some kind of strange bipedal rodent. A quick image of Daxter flashed through her mind, but she quickly shook that thought aside, as it was quite ridiculous to imagine the Ottsel willingly marching headlong into the face of this many Metal Heads. Plus, she knew that her luck wasn't _that_ good.

Focusing her mind back on the mission at hand, she slung off her backpack, and unzipped it. From there, the next few minutes were a blur as she swiftly donned the homemade ballistic armor, slipping on the chestplate before attaching the shin plating and securing her helmet. Next came her gauntlets. Like the rest of her equipment, they were a dull grey in color and went back almost to her elbow, and the one on her left hand had a steel colored ridge that came about an inch or so off of it, which ended in an opening that had what looked like a piece of greenish crystal sticking out of it. While the one on her right hand had a similar shape, except that it ended in an open hole and had a spherical shape towards the elbow end of it.

After that, she took out her gun, a belt of energy packs and a bandolier of specially designed plasmite grenades, and her pistol, and put them all in their respective places. Last, came one of the sets of thermal goggles, which she promptly turned on. Fully suited up, she looked like some sort of commando warrior, rather than a mechanic born in a simple seaside village. And she knew without a shadow of a doubt in her mind, that if her father had seen her like this, he would have had a heart attack in an instant.

Chuckling to herself, she set off after the other elf.

* * *

She hadn't even traveled more than a few minutes when she came across the first Metal Head body. Once again, her tracker side kicked in and she pulled her goggles up, and knelt down next to it, well, the pieces of it anyway. What had killed it had been obvious enough, a massive amount of blood loss due to being cut in half. But what had astounded her had been the cut itself. It was clean, smooth, meaning that whatever had done this had sliced through the Grunt's armor, flesh, and bone like they had been nothing more than paper. Further examination revealed that the weapon that had done it had been long, and curved. That left a single possibility as to its nature: a sword.

She paused in her thinking, having some trouble coming to grips with this bit of knowledge. Who, in this day and age, used a sword? Shaking her head in disbelief, she looked around the area, seeking more clues about the encounter, and about a minute later, she reached a fairly conclusive reckoning about what had gone down here.

The Metal Head had leaped, at fairly high speed, considering the initial blood spatter was a good twenty five feet from where its body parts had wound up, from behind the protection of some snow covered rocks, apparently thinking to get the drop on this unsuspecting elf. However, its target was not oblivious, and the Grunt had very quickly been made aware of its error. The elf had apparently heard its leap, and had turned as it came at him, pivoting a full three sixty and bisecting it with a single, well placed downswing of his blade as it had passed. Her "friends" had then apparently went on their merry little way as if nothing had occurred, with the elf not even pausing face the area where the Metal Head's halves had landed.

So this person not only carried a blade, but was apparently darn good at using it. Keira still wondered, as she took off again, why someone would carry such a weapon though. Yes, it paid to carry both a long and a short, as the saying went, but wasn't that what knives and daggers were for? A sword was larger, harder to conceal, and they could be quite often unwieldy, as rarely were any two made exactly alike. Still, perhaps it was some sort of family heirloom this guy was carrying, something that had sentimental value or whatnot.

Her thoughts were again interrupted as she came across another battle zone. This time, though, there were five bodies, rather than just one. Two Grunts, two Drones, and a Centurion lay where they had fallen, their black blood frozen upon the snow covered ground. Once more, she quickly scoped out the area to figure out what had happened. The Drones and one of the Grunts had been the first to die, the former two by decapitation and being sliced in half from the left front leg upward respectively, while the Grunt had been stabbed through its heart.

What puzzled her though, were the elf's actions. His footprints ended just before the start of this clearing, and started again right in the heart of this trio. However, his prints were considerably deeper than they had been previously, indicating that he had probably jumped. The problem was this: there were no tree branches in this area from which the elf could have dropped without breaking something, and the gap between where his prints stopped and picked back up were almost thirty feet apart. And Keira knew there was no way in hell that any elf could jump that far.

Continuing on, there was a good sized patch of snow that had been messed up, indicating that the elf had probably executed a small leap and roll maneuver, and lining up with it, the mechanic observed that the second Grunt lay slumped directly in front of her. Walking over, she could see a trio of neat holes that had been bored into its head, and by the size and the slight amount of cauterization around the wounds, she could tell that they had been made by some sort of blaster.

But possibly the strangest was the Centurion, which was obviously the leader of this small patrol. Half of its face was blown away, and the tree behind it had a rather large burn mark on it. She had seen wounds caused by such a weapon, and that kind of gun was currently held within the Metal Head's death grip. It was almost as if the elf had turned its own weapon upon it, but there were no tracks over here to indicate such a possibility.

She did let out a slight whistle of admiration for this guy, though, whoever he was. He had obviously caught this group with their proverbial pants down, and it had been over within seconds, as the Centurion hadn't even had time to activate its energy shield. And then he had once again continued forward at the same even pace that he had been using up to that point.

Quiet, fast, and absolutely deadly. The aqua-haired elf was beginning to understand why Torn had called her mysterious ally here a one elf army. Still, no one was invincible, and putting her thermal visor back on, she hurried along, just in case this elven Rambo might need help.

* * *

It was about ten or so minutes later, when the first sounds of combat reached her ears. She quickly scanned around, making certain that none of the Cloakers were near here, before she moved towards the source of the ruckus. There was a small rise in front of her, which she opted to crawl up on her gut, remaining as close to the ground as she could. Moving one arm over the other, she made her way to the top in a fairly efficient manner, where she remained hidden behind some bushes that offered excellent cover, despite their lack of leaves. It turned out that once again the forest opened up into a clearing, but this one was larger than the one that she had come from. However, she barely took those details into account. There was something else within the open area that held her attention.

The clearing was a slaughterhouse.

Metal Head bodies were scattered about, some cut apart, other slain by blaster fire. Keira quickly estimated there to be almost two dozen bodies of different species. When she added this up with the six that she found before, and did a quick mental calculation based upon the report, it looked as if this mysterious elven warrior had already massacred a good half of the attacking force that they had been sent to deal with.

A roar drew her attention to the far side of the clearing. It was then that she saw him, a flash of heat against the coldness of the environment. Within his right hand, was a cooler object, and Keira knew then that this was the weapon that had cut down so many. Within his left, he clutched a pistol that, even from this distance, she recognized as one of her own design.

There were more flashes of heat, and she realized that the elf was under fire from not one, but two Crab Heads. However, rather than being cut down by the vast amount of firepower being thrown at him, the mystery fighter danced about, moving his sword around in a strange ballet as he seemed to flirt with Death. Imagine her surprise as the shots went sailing back in the direction of their senders. Instantly, she realized what fate had befallen the Centurion, and she couldn't hold back a grin as she realized the irony of such a demise.

However, Crab Heads were not Centurions. This was obvious as the energy bursts were absorbed by the armor that the large commander types wore. They weren't stupid either, and began to maneuver about, both of them strutting about sideways in a manner that had earned their kind their name. She realized what they were doing, getting into a position where this elf couldn't deflect all of their shots.

But the warrior was not about to fall for that trick apparently, as he suddenly leapt away, covering almost ten meters in a single bound. The mechanic blinked a few times, making certain that her eyes hadn't suddenly decided to play tricks on her. It was a fortunate thing that she did that, as an instant later, her ally set off a charge shot, which registered so highly on her thermal goggles that it nearly overloaded them. Blinking again, this time to clear away the spots in front of her eyes, a cry of pain reached her ears, and she knew the overcharge shot had connected with one of the large Metal Heads. However, both were still standing when she regained her ability to see.

Still, they did not stay that way for long. Seconds later, the elf pointed his magnum again, and this time she had sense enough to look away. This time also, the cry was more of a gurgle than anything else, and staring back, she noticed that the blast had all but removed the commander's head.

This sent the other one, apparently younger and brasher, into a rage. It threw down its blasters, and yelled something in its own language that she couldn't understand. Much to her surprise, instead of gunning the beast down when he had the chance, the elf twirled his blaster, and holstered it. He then adopted a strange combat stance, sticking his blade behind his back. Keira's mind reeled, trying to take a Crab Head on in melee? That guy was absolutely nuts! The creature roared again, and this time, its elven antagonist had a reply as well.

"You gonna stand there and do that all day, or are you going to come and get me?" he asked, motioning for the Crab Head to "bring it."

There was something tantalizingly familiar about the voice, and then it clicked. That was the very same elf that Krew had tried to place on her racing team! What in the world was he doing working for the underground? Unless, he was some sort of double agent, like Tess was. Still, she was quite certain that her blond haired friend would have mentioned something like that at their last meeting.

Her thoughts went back to the battle as both combatants suddenly charged at each other, screaming battle cries. They closed the distance between each other rapidly, but a second before they would be at each others throats, the elf leapt, angling himself up off of the ground. Time itself seemed to slow, as he flipped about to where he was upside down, putting him well above the reach of the very much astonished Metal Head. The look of confusion would be eternally carved into its face as its foe spun about horizontally, performing a decapitation that would have made an executioner green with envy.

The elf hit the ground, feet first, at the same time that the Crab Head's corpse collapsed into the snow. Then, as if to mock his fallen opponents, he whirled the blade around in the air, before bringing it back down to his side.

"Pathetic." he said, his voice carried to where the aqua haired elf lay hidden.

Her eyes wide with disbelief, Keira removed her infrared visor to see if she could get a better look at this mysterious warrior. He was dressed in dark clothing, and somehow, she sensed that it was not the cold that caused him to do so. For, even from this distance, she could feel something that was almost akin to an aura from him, something telling her that the low temperature wasn't bothering him in the slightest. His hair was swept back, and fair colored, and for a moment, she hoped…but no…again…her luck wasn't that good.

Or so she thought, for there suddenly came a voice, one that she was also very familiar with.

"Is it safe to come down yet?" the voice said, coming from somewhere up in the trees.

"They're all dead, Dax, you can come out now." the elf responded, not turning around.

"I meant you, Jak." the Ottsel muttered, as he crawled down from a tree, not twenty feet from where she lay hidden. "You're scarier than any Metal Head I've ever seen."

"And do I scare you, Daxter?" the former Channeler remarked, looking back over his shoulder and letting her see his face, though she couldn't make out much from this distance.

"No, but I can't say the same for Tall, Dark, and Gruesome, I was half expecting him to make an appearance during that scrap." the diminutive rodent replied.

"I don't know what to make of it, but that…creature…seems to only show up when things really start to go downhill." Jak responded.

Keira was confused, what in the world was he talking about? Was there something else out here, more dangerous than the Metal Heads? And for that matter, what in the world was she still doing lying on her stomach in the snow, listening to a childhood friend, and someone she considered much closer than that, banter between each other after being separated for going on three years? Perhaps, it was Jak himself. She couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something different about him, aside form the fact that he seemed to have miraculously found a voice for himself and his somewhat drastic wardrobe change. It was something about his actions, the way he had seemingly just stormed in here and butchered more than twenty four of these monsters and apparently seemed to think nothing of it. There was a coldness, almost a callousness to his actions, and it had her somewhat unnerved.

She quickly scolded herself for even thinking about such things. After all, hadn't she changed? Hadn't she been forced to adapt or die within the walls of Haven City? What horrors had been forced upon him?

"Let's go, Daxter." he said, his voice neutral.

"Don't you think we should wait up just a bit, Jak ol buddy?" Daxter protested, waving his arms about. "Tattooed Wonder did contact us and say that there would be some assist on this one."

"I really don't feel like babysitting any of his soldiers today, Dax." Jak replied, his tone suddenly weary.

Keira never knew what it was she did, whether she shifted suddenly or made some sort of noise, but suddenly, the magnum in Jak's left hand was pointed straight at where she was. Daxter, apparently confused, made some remark or whatnot that she couldn't quite make out.

"Come out slowly, your hands where I can see them." he barked, his tone as icy as the air around him.

"You're trying to reason with a Metal Head?" Daxter asked incredulously, his voice louder this time.

"Whatever's over there, it's not a Metal Head." the elf responded, his voice a growl. "You're not getting another warning, now come out where we can see you."

Slowly, well aware that Jak had proved just how dangerous he could be with his blaster, she stood up, and marched forward, dropping her gun, and removing her helmet.

* * *

&

* * *

Okay, that's done, now I have to have them wipe out the Metal Heads, and have their little "argument", any ideas on how that can be done so that I can make the next chapter a notable improvement over this one are greatly appreciated, as I want to make this as good as I can.

Any other ideas, comments, constructive criticisms (probably plenty of room for those here), and even flames are welcomed with open arms.

That said, I hope you have a good day, and that you are not disgusted by my lack of talent.


	15. The Beast Without

Hello everyone, managed to have a burst of creativity on this one that helped me get it gone in a fairly rapid manner. Hopefully, I was able to achieve a decent speed without sacrificing too much on the quality level.

To those of you who have been kind enough to review.

**Shakai- **I think you give me far more credit than I deserve, there are many authors on this site far better than I can ever hope to be. Nonetheless, I am glad you've liked what my demented and insane mind has managed to conjure up so far, and I hope that you enjoy this chapter as well.

**Light-Eco-Sage- **Hehe, you can rest assured that Keira will be getting quite an eyeful of D.J. both now, and later. As far as their reactions to each other, well, I'm just praying that I haven't totally botched this scene. (crosses fingers and prays fervently).

**Lunatic Pandora1- **Yeah, Vergil is one of those unchallenged masters, and he also has that little ninja move of his where he times the sheathing of Yamato to his enemies falling apart down to an art form. Also, as far as Jak being bad, if you mean bad as in his butt kicking capabilities, then yes he will be like Vergil, but if you meant bad as in evil, no, he won't slip quite that far down the path.

**SevethSpanishAngel12-** Yeah, sorry about the cliffhanger, but I thought it might be a good place to leave off, same with this segment. Hope you like it, and thanks for the vote of confidence.

**Paska**- I was a little worried about how people would react to that myself. Keira's slight personality tweak and her combat skills are probably the second biggest experimental thing that I'll be doing in this story, second only to something that has yet to happen. Hopefully, I'll be able to pull this off. Also, I agree with you about pop music (shudders).

**Evil Manic- **Thanks for the ideas, not sure about how I could get a bow into here, but the flash bangs and smoke grenades will be making appearances in the coming chapters. As for Kitetsu, it'll be getting its own upgrade in a about four of five chapters, and the vibro blade has made an appearance in this story, it just hasn't been used it yet. (praises whatever Muse inspired Star Wars universe)

**Farr2rich- **Hehe, if you think Jak and Kitetsu make a lethal combination right now, just wait until a little bit later. Thanks for the morph gun ideas, I'll try to figure out how to use them in the story. Thanks for you encouragement on the last chapter, I have a lot of trouble feeling confident about what it is that I submit to this site. Hopefully, this chapter will be as good as the last ones.

**dude- **Thanks for that idea, it's pretty much what I decided to go with, it'll make things a little bit smoother. Can you let me know what you think of this chapter if it's not too much trouble?

**Exardas**- I'm glad that you like my writing style, and I hope to be able to continue to please. As far as the Jak series is concerned you really should play number two through to the end, it probably has the best plot of the trilogy, though it can be hard as hell in some areas.

**GoodMorningBeautiful2005-** As you wish, here is the next update, may it hopefully be up to your standards. (bows politely).

**daxter the otsel**- Thanks for the advice, it was a really big help on this chapter, and on the next one. As far as modesty is concerned, self confidence is a major problem that I have. Still, I'm glad that you think I'm talented. Thanks.

**DarkStarPhoenix-** Ouch, exams, you have my sincerest sympathies, my friend, those are not pleasant. I'll give you the part about the improved game play, and the fact that due to being able to control how long I remained in Dark Mode, I was able to take advantage of D.J. far mroe than I was in the second. As far as his evolution is concerned, and Jak's realization about what is happening to Kitetsu, those will be almost immediately after the Mar's Tomb trial, which will also likely be veeeerrrrrrryyyy different than what happened in the game. (I must admit though, I would have thought that the old guy would have made his final resting place a little more user friendly considering only his descendants could get into it.) As for Light Jak, well, I was never really as "fond" of him as I was of D.J., as he struck me as looking like some freakish cross between Raziel from Soul Reaver, and the arch-angel Tyrael from Diablo II (and with his wings being like Tyrael's I was at least hoping he could use them as a weapon like said arch-angel does.), so I really don't know how I'm going to do him, though I have a highly controversial and very much AU idea in mind. Also, if you want, I could e-mail you a rough picture of what D.J. will look like after his little jump up the evolutionary ladder is completed.

**ChibiSess**- Thanks for your vote of confidence, and I'm glad that you liked it. As for D.J., well, his appearances and pivotal roll in the plot of the story are going to become more and more frequent and important. As far as Torn is concerned, it bugged me they never really went into his past, that was a golden opportunity that they squandered. And I have to agree, not to sound prejudiced or anything, but there aren't really a whole lot of male authors around in this area, not sure why though. At any rate, I try to keep my updates to about a week or so, two weeks at the very most, school permitting. And as far as the Krimzon Guard are concerned, they aren't the only guards to be totally oblivious to everything around them, take the Genome soldiers in Metal Gear Solid, or for that matter, that special group renowned for their white armor, sinister looking facemasks, and being the butt of every bad soldier joke in the galaxy...the Storm Troopers! (seriously, how the heck does Vader manage to put up with those incompetent fools, not only are they totally oblivious, but they can't hit a man sized target at ten meters that's standing out in the open! Jeez, I swear Jango Fett must be rolling over in his grave at how far they've degenerated from the bad arse warriors that he spawned.) Sorry, I'm raving again, I'll let you get back to what you came here for. (laughs sheepishly).

To any and all lawyers, I hereby swear upon my immortal soul that the only thing I claim lordship over in this story is the one minor and as of yet unnamed character that I have created, all others belong to Naughty Dog, Team Ninja, Bungee, etc. etc., so on and so forth.

That done, here is the next chapter, may it hopefully please you.

* * *

&

* * *

The Beast Without

For the first time in what seemed like years, Jak's mind simply refused to process as it was supposed to. He remained stock still, frozen in time, as he stared at the person he cared about more than anything in the world. The impossible was happening right in front of him, and he didn't know what to do. It was a moment that he had both longed for, and dreaded with all of his being. For it seemed, that he was about to make a decision that would affect the rest of his life, which by the way he was figuring things, wasn't all that long.

Keira however, had no such thoughts, and simple rushed forward and embraced him, causing him to drop his gun, though he retained his grip upon Kitetsu. The dark elf remained unmoving, though, contemplating his next action carefully. Abruptly, however, the decision was taken away from him, much to his relief. The female elf in his arms suddenly opened her eyes, and she stiffened instantly.

"What's wrong?" he whispered, loud enough for her and Daxter to hear.

"We're not alone," she told him, hissing out the side of her mouth, "there's a Cloaker watching us. Don't move, don't let it know that I've seen it."

The Eco infused warrior assessed the situation, looking around him. He had dropped his magnum, and had pretty much made Keira relinquish her own gun when he had told her to come out. This very much limited what he was able to do. Thankfully, there was salvation in the form of the elf in his arms.

"I've got a pistol in my side holster, use that on it." she hissed, moving as little of her mouth as was possible.

"Where is it?" he responded, his voice hushed.

"In one of the trees, a pine that's dead from lightning damage." the mechanic said.

"Elevation, degree?" he inquired.

"Twenty degrees to my right, forty feet off the ground, middle of a large branch." she told him.

Jak nodded, and then moved into action. The Cloaker had been watching the two elves, its curiosity getting the better of it. It would prove to be a fatal mistake. By the time it noticed the elf moving, it was already dead. The former Channeler ripped Keira's pistol from its holder, and knocked her to the ground, so she wouldn't have to worry as much about being shot. In the same movement, he completed a spin, and looked to the tree that the aqua haired elf had indicated. Sure enough, about forty feet off the ground, was a strange blur. Knowing this to be the enemy, Jak took aim, and squeezed off four shots in rapid succession.

Though he hadn't had much to aim at, the dark elf managed to be surprisingly accurate, with three of his shots connecting. Two hit it in the face, about where its mouth was, and the last one went right through its neck. There was a strange gasping sound from the Metal Head, and it keeled over backwards, where, much to Keira's relief, it landed in a deep snow bank.

Jak turned back around to help the mechanic up, only to find her already running for her gear. She dove as she reached it, and with a surprising amount of gymnastics, rolled about, grabbing her visor and her gun. She then frantically scanned the area, making certain that none of its comrades were around to start trying to use them for target practice.

After several hectic moments, she allowed herself to calm down, and collected her helmet, before walking towards the trench coat clad elf. He had moved as well, having sheathed his blade and picked up his pistol before walking over to the body of the Cloaker. Next to him was Daxter, who looked about ready to soil himself in fright.

Jak was curious about this new kind of Metal Head, now that its strange camouflage or whatever had worn off. It didn't in any way resemble its brethren, being humanoid in its build, except for the fact that it was larger than most elves by a good foot, and had muscles that would make many a male jealous, that and he assumed its face was different, as it was hard to tell with the strange mask it had on. Reaching down, he picked it up out of the impression that it had made, and placed it down again next to Keira.

"Never seen this type before." he remarked, prodding its carcass with his toe.

"Well," Keira said, looking him in the eye, "normally, you don't exactly "see" them."

"How was it doing that?" Daxter asked, looking at the Metal Head as if it might somehow reanimate itself at any moment and begin to attack them.

"They're called Cloakers for a reason." the mechanic responded, rolling the carcass over with a grunt, and then allowing a wide smile to come over her face. "This pack, here," she gestured to an oblong protrusion along the rear of the thing's chestplate, "is somehow used to generate an energy field for some kind of active camo."

"Active camo?" the two males asked simultaneously, immediately causing the tech head kneeling next to them to go into a mode of thinking/speaking that they were quite familiar with.

"It bends light around the Cloaker, rendering it virtually invisible to the untrained eye." she answered, her voice radiating excitement in a way that was tearing the elf standing above her apart from the inside. "About the only time you can see them is when they're moving, and even then it can be tricky."

"You seemed to spot it well enough." Jak said, struggling to keep his voice neutral, as he handed her pistol to her and reloaded his magnum.

"I've learned to know what to look for." she responded, before lowering her voice ominously. "We got lucky, damn lucky."

"How so?" Jak inquired, somewhat surprised by her use of profanity.

"Cause this freak was a newbie, probably his first mission." Keira said before elaborating. "Cloakers aren't stupid, I'd personally bet they're even smarter than Crab Heads, a more experience one would have shot us instead of waiting around to see what we were doing." she remarked, gesturing to a gun mounted on its shoulder, before looking up into the dark elf's eyes. "I think maybe we'd better save the joyous celebration for after we get done here, these guys always work in groups of three, and once his buddies don't hear from him for a while…"

Jak was quick to pick up on the cue, and redrew his blade in an instant, his eyes scanning the tree branches for any sign of movement. Deep down, he was relieved to have a little more time to think about the situation with Keira. He just didn't know what to do.

Abruptly, though, his train of thought was derailed as the aqua haired female handed him a set of goggles similar to the ones she had on. He stared at them, and then back at her, his eyebrows cocked slightly.

"These pick up infrared, heat." she explained. "Those generators they carry with them create of a lot of it, so these make em stand out like sore thumbs."

"How ironic." he muttered, before holstering his pistol and putting them on.

From there, it was simple matter to activate them. He realized that they were quite similar to the ones that he had used when he had been hunting Metal Heads with Sig, though these were clearly a more advanced model. That was something he did not find surprising considering who they had come from. Thinking of their maker once again threw him into a spiral of confusion and despair, as he debated to himself what he should do regarding this matter of the heart.

Despite what Keira had said they should do, he couldn't keep his mind from wandering to her. Being suddenly reunited with one who had meant so much to him and still did, he was forced to confront the dilemma of whether or not he could afford to love her.

* * *

It was about five or six minutes later when both elves suddenly tensed, that combative sixth sense surfacing again. Keira quickly, but still quietly, made her way through the snow covered bushes of the forest over to the west, where the flat area they were on suddenly opened up into a small valley. Thought still hanging back in the tree-line, Jak recognized this place, as one of the Precursor ruins that he and Daxter visited was visible on a small hill not to far from where they now stood.

However, he knew that the tech head on his right was staring at the two Metal Heads that were in the distant sky, but rapidly making their way towards their position. Keira however, merely smiled in a wicked manner, something that seemed very out of place on her delicate features. She removed the clip from her morph-gun and thumbed a switch that near the rear of it, and with a slight whirring noise, the gun transformed into a long barreled rifle with a massive scope on the top. The aqua haired elf quickly loaded the weapon, and moved her goggles up off of her eyes, before bringing the morph-gun up to her shoulder, and stared through the sights, constantly moving the gun back and forth between the two incoming Scouts.

Finally, once she was certain that she could frag them both before either had a chance to react, she put her finger to the trigger, and squeezed. Daxter yelped and Jak winced as the rifle fired with a bang loud enough to compete with a tank cannon. Almost instantly, the first of the two Scouts plummeted from the air as a bolt of Yellow Eco tore through it, and just as quickly, the mechanic switched to the other target, which had just begun to turn its head towards its ill fated comrade, before that particular region of its body exploded.

"Yes!" Keira hissed quietly.

"Man, Keira, you are packing some serious heat!" Daxter exclaimed, stunned at the power behind this weapon.

"Thanks, Dax, it's the newest mod that I've come up with." the aqua haired elf replied, her voice brimming with pride.

"Wait a minute, you're the person designing the morph-guns?" Jak said, his face a humorous mask of bafflement.

"Yep, and you are the guy that Krew tried to stick on my racing team." she retorted matter of factly, before gesturing back to her weapon. "This puppy was a tricky one to get down, and there are still a few bugs that have to be worked out. As you could see, it's a sniper rifle…"

"Wait, hold on a second," the dark elf interrupted, looking at her, "aren't sniper rifles traditionally supposed to be quiet weapons?"

"They keep overloading the suppressors I've been trying to design for them." she responded with a growl. "When I finally manage to get that all ironed out, trust me, you'll be first in line to receive one."

And with that, she pulled out a small container, opened it, and tossed a chip in his direction, which he easily caught and slide into his own morph gun, quickly changing it into a mirrored version of hers.

"For that matter," she said, her tone laced with confusion, "why in the Precursors' name are you even using a gun, Jak? Your Channeling powers should make these morph-guns look like a kid's plaything!"

"I lost my gift." he said, and Keira quickly realized that she had just crossed a line into some very personal territory, so she quickly changed the subject, namely to the weapon that the dark elf was holding.

"This mod fires a special kind of ammunition," the tech-head began, taking the clip out of her own gun, and pulling out an a strange looking object, "I've managed to take some scraps of old durra-steel and compress them into a slug, then I magnetized them and got them to create field that actually wraps Eco around them." she then gestured to the almost obscenely long barrel of the gun. "Some specialized circuits in the barrel also create magnetic fields, but these ones alternate in their polarity."

"So you use magnets to throw the round out at hypersonic velocity?" Jak said, getting him an affirmative nod from the mechanic. "What's the slug's speed?"

"I'm not exactly sure," she said, shaking her head, "but I'd guess that the muzzle velocity is somewhere in the area of eighteen thousand F.P.S."

Jak's eye bulged outwards, and Daxter just scratched his head.

"Sweetie," he said, getting him a glare from the female elf, "I have no idea what you just said, but I'm going to guess that's fast."

"That's almost mach twenty, Dax." Jak said, staring at the weapon in his hands, and causing the former elf to have a reaction similar to his earlier one. "Keir, this isn't a sniper rifle, this is a freaking rail gun!"

"Call it what you want to," she said, shrugging, "just be sure to hold it tightly when you go to fire, cause as you can imagine, it's got one heck of a recoil." she then gestured to the scope on the top of the gun. "This is an optic enhancing sight, it's got two zoom modes which you can switch between by pressing this red button here." she then pushed the button and Jak found himself staring at a large black dot, which he promptly realized was Daxter's pupil.

"Watch where you're pointing that thing!" the Ottsel exclaimed, leaping away.

"Up close and personal, and hello, you're dead." Keira finished with a fiendish grin upon her face.

She then handed him a pair of clips for the gun, which the dark elf realized held six rounds, and they were soon once again on their merry little way.

* * *

About another hour had gone by, and they had had no other encounters with their foes, which was making the two elves nervous, and Daxter grateful. However, had the Ottsel known the theory that both of his larger compatriots had reasoned was behind the lack of encounters, he would have probably begged for them to bug out before they got killed.

Sure enough, Jak and Keira had their suspicions confirmed not to long thereafter, as their thermal goggles picked up a huge reading. They stopped abruptly, and Daxter, oblivious as usual, plowed into Jak's leg. The Ottsel went to ask what the big deal was, but a gesture from both elves caused him to wisely keep his trap shut, especially once he crawled up and got a good look at what they had spotted.

It was another clearing, and this one was jam-full of Metal Heads, far more than the scouting reports had indicated. Staring around, mentally calculating the odds, Jak noticed two more heat signatures, brighter than the rest, in trees on opposite side of the clearing, the remaining two Cloakers. Slowly, not wishing to draw the attention of the beasts, they withdrew, Daxter muttering a silent prayer of thanks that they remained undetected.

"So, what's the plan?" the former Channeler inquired once they were safely away from the vicinity. "I'm guessing we're in over our heads here."

"Well, normally, I'd say yes, but if we do everything right, we might just be able to pull this one off." she muttered, rubbing her chin.

"What about the gold guy?" Daxter piped up, upon receiving some confused looks, he decided to elaborate. "One of the big Crab Head's had on some fancy looking gold armor."

This resulted in a quiet curse coming from the aqua haired elf.

"What does that mean?" Jak asked, staring at her.

"That's a leader type," Keira said, "veeeerrrrryyy high ranking, it means that there's something big going on out here. I suppose that's also why they're all bunched up now, once one of their groups and their Scouts didn't report in, that guy must have called them all back."

"Well, we still have the element of surprise." Jak mused.

"Yeah, and we'll be using that, trust me." Keira said, and he could tell that she was winking, even behind her visor.

"I'll assume that means you have some sort of plan that involves us keeping the same amount of blood in our bodies that we have right now?" Daxter said, his skin pale underneath his fur.

"Yep," the mechanic replied, getting that grin once more, "Jak I want you to sneak around to the other side of the clearing. Once you're in position, snipe those two Cloakers, and used what's left of your ammo to take care of the Crab Heads. That'll cause a panic among the lesser ones, and we'll be able to wipe most of them out before they can reorganize themselves."

"What about you?" he asked, and though he tried to keep his voice emotionless, he couldn't stop a measure of concern from making its way into it.

The aqua haired elf's response was to remove the clip from her sub-machinegun, and press another button on her weapon. The usual whirring sound kicked in, and this time, the gun transformed itself into a wide barreled weapon with a rotating portion containing six separate chambers, each about two inches in diameter. She then started pulling out the strange charge-like devices she had in her bandolier, loading them into the gun one at a time.

"Oh, I'll manage." she said offhandedly.

"What?" Daxter whispered, not daring to raise his voice higher as he looked at her new weapon with eyes the size of a dinner plate. "How come you get all the cool weapons!"

"Ummm, because I make them?" Keira shot back, smirking down at the Ottsel.

"Let's get this party started." Jak muttered darkly, drawing everyone's attention back to the situation at hand.

In a flash, the former Channeler was off, trekking around the glade, keeping his eyes posted upon the two heat signatures of the Cloakers, as he had no desire to lose track of them.

Keira once more dropped to her stomach, and began to belly crawl towards the enemy position, her own gaze scanning the area. She knew that they were outnumbered, badly. Any run of the mill K.G. could hold his own against three Grunts or Drones, and could usually handle Centurions as well. However, Cloakers, while normally used for stealth missions and assassinations, were more than capable of holding their own in combat, and she'd heard tales of Crab Head's laying waste to entire squadrons of elves single handedly. Their first screw up, their first mistake, and they were worm food.

No pressure, right?

Jak meanwhile, was eager to get started. He had managed to control it since Keira had shown up, but that rage was still simmering just below the surface, looking, no, begging, for an outlet. And here was one. He waited for several minutes, moving his crosshairs of his rifle back and forth between the blurs that were Cloakers with their stealth generators active. He'd been forced to remove his thermal visor for the moment, as the scope distorted his heat readings, making it even harder to see the Metal Head than he would with his own eyes.

Finally, once he was certain that Keira was ready, he made sure that everything was lined up correctly, and squeezed the trigger, being sure to hold the gun tightly as the tech-head had instructed him. It kicked, and the loud booming echoed through the glad. The hapless Cloaker literally never knew what had hit it, as the force of the shot propelled it off of the limb it had been on, its camouflage fading as its armor and equipment were ripped apart. However, by the time he had aimed over where the second one had been, it was gone.

Cursing, he went to snap his goggles back down to locate it. Unfortunately, golden boy chose that moment to lay down some suppressive fire, and began to expertly bark out orders to its inferiors and subordinates. Realizing the threat that that one posed instantly, Jak got up on one knee, deciding to let his healing factor take care of any shots that he might have to deal with, took aim, and let fly again. The Eco wrapped slug was on target, and the unlucky commander got a first hand introduction to what an overripe melon felt like when given a good smack from a sledgehammer.

His comrades had just enough time to gape at the suddenly headless body before they suffered a very similar fate.

The dark elf ejected the spent clip, and loaded the other one, this time planning to take down the other kind that looked capable of leading these guys, the ones with the fancy energy shields. However, as he went to do so, he received a fierce kick to his side that sent him sailing through the air, his flight being stopped by a tree. He looked up to observe the other Cloaker standing next to where he had been. Instinctively, he rolled to one side, and the portion of the tree trunk behind where he head had been seemed to explode as a large energy bolt connected with it.

He ejected the clip from the rifle, and switched it back to its magnum mode, slamming the large pistol down over a power pack and drawing Kitetsu in the same motion. Both weapons ready to go, he took aim at the Metal Head, and opened fire. It was more than happy to return the favor, the large cannon on its shoulder spitting bolts of super-heated Eco at him, several of them coming dangerously close despite his incredible reflexes. He responded by sending a trio of bursts in its direction. It dodged two, but the third hit it on what appeared to be its left arm. It snarled in pain and fired again, before charging at the dark elf.

He vaulted over the rampaging Metal Head, and attempted to repeat the maneuver he had used to decapitate the Crab Head earlier. However, this Cloaker was not stupid, and it ducked into a roll. Jak saw this, and attempted to compensate. He succeeded to a slight degree, as he sliced into the monster's power generator. There was the crackling of electricity, and the Cloaker's active camouflage field dissipated. However, its canon apparently still worked, as it roared in anger, and turned around to shoot at him some more.

After that barrage had passed, it also did something that the former Channeler was not expecting. It reached behind it, and drew a melee weapon. The sword was approximately four feet long, with three of those belonging to a gleaming blade that was straight except for the end, which was slightly curved. Gripping it in two hands, the creature charged once again, its shoulder canon firing at the dark elf until it closed the distance between them.

Jak was quick to discover that its muscular build was not just for show, as it struck with a strength that almost reminded him of Praxis' power armor. Unfortunately for him, this creature's might was completely natural. It was also skilled, matching him stroke for stroke, parrying every swipe, deflecting every thrust. To his credit, Jak was able to do the same, and the Cloaker was soon growling in frustration and confusion.

It was puzzled. Never in its years of fighting had any pointy ear been able to match it in a contest of strength, to say nothing of the fact that this elf was not exactly bulging with muscles. How then, was it able to repel its attack?

Had it not been distracted by such thoughts, it might have noticed the vibration and noise that Jak's pistol was beginning to make. However, it did not, and was thus very much surprised when the overcharge shot nailed it in the chest at point blank range. It staggered backwards, barely managing to block a blow that would have made it gutless. However, much to Jak's disappointment, this Cloaker was no stranger to pain, and it was going to take more than melting its armor to its chest to bring it down.

The next few moments were spent at a distance, with Jak launching another overcharge blast at the veteran Metal Head, and much to his surprise, he got out of the way by performing a spring to its left, flipping upside down, whereupon it used one of its hands to push off of the ground again, its shoulder canon firing throughout the maneuver.

Jak dodged, and ejected his now spent pack, slamming a fresh one home and opening up with more burst fire. Several shots from the things shoulder canon were sent his way, which he used Kitetsu to deflect. It seemed almost as if they were at an impasse, with neither of these warriors able to overcome the other. How Jak wished he still had his ability to Channel, then it would have been so simple to hurl an energy ball at this thing and that would have been that. He also hoped that Keira was faring better than he was at the current moment.

* * *

As for how Keira was doing, well, it was better than he was. No sooner had the first sniper shots boomed through the clearing than she had leaned out from around the tree that she had been hiding behind, sighted up the largest clusters of Metal Heads that she could see, and sent an RPG screaming into their midst. This pattern was repeated five more times, until Metal Heads, or more appropriately, pieces of them, were falling from the sky like some sort morbid hail storm.

With the Crab Head's officially being fertilizer courtesy of Jak's sniping skills, the Centurions quickly attempted to assume command of the situation. However, while their energy shields might have given them ample protection against most standard issue weapons, they did possess a weakness. On either side of the circular protective mechanism were two semi-circular areas that were left open, intended to be slots for the creatures to fire their blaster pistols from which crouching down behind them. Keira had battled these particular types before, and had learned that those openings worked both ways. Several of them went to fire at her, only to screech in pain as their weapon hands would be torn away from their bodies by a well placed burst from her battle rifle mod.

Abruptly, two sounds reached her ears. The first was a warning from Daxter, and the second was the growling of a Grunt as it hurled itself at her. She pivoted around, facing the thing, and leaning back, balled up her left fist. There was a strange hissing sound, and the length of green crystal shot out from the gauntlet. Daxter was baffled as he saw the air seemingly begin to waver and distort around the strange glowing rock, and something deep within his mind seemed to think that Keira had used her genius to craft yet another deadly little toy.

That most certainly appeared to be the case, as she drove her fist forward, and skewered the Grunt straight through its heart. It paused, somewhat confused at the crystalline weapon that was protruding from its chest. As blood frothed upon its lips, its malevolent eyes closed, and then she threw it to the ground. Daxter was again confused as he watched the Metal Head's dark blood drip off the weapon and down unto the snow, none of it touching the crystal. The tech-head unclenched her fist, and the blade retracted, leaving the rest of the Metal Head's life-fluid to hit the ground.

However, when Keira turned back around, she was forced to suppress a small growl. The remaining Centurions had arranged themselves into a five man 'V' shaped formation, and had interlocked their shields. That was going to make it extremely difficult, for her to get a clean shot in. Still she had to try. She leaned out, peered through the battle rifle's scope, and fired off a few bursts at the central one. The lead Centurion was smart however, and knew to keep its weapon hand tucked safely behind the protection of its energy shield, while its padres were more than content to throw energy at the aqua haired female.

She leaned back around the tree just as the shots either connected with the trunk or whizzed by her. Snarling in rage, she leaned back out to try again, only to receive a couple of bolts to the chest. Fortunately, her armor held, and she was fine, despite the fact that her ears were ringing from Daxter's scream.

She looked down to the Ottsel, to try and assure him that she was perfectly fine, but a sudden cry that could have only been a cheer of elation came from the area where the Centurions were.

Risking a glance, she peeked back around to see what all the commotion was about, and was forced to bite back a small amount of fear. She could see them skittering through the trees, another squadron of the monsters, complete with a Crab Head leading the formation up. Great, just great, a patrol that had been late getting in. Realizing where they were heading, she quickly looked around the clearing, knowing that the area she was in was about to get very hot, very fast.

Daxter had seen them too, if the fact that his knees were knocking together was any sort of indication. Keira quickly scooped him up and put him on her shoulder, instructing him to hold on tightly. She then flipped her battle rifle over to her left hand, and pointed her right gauntlet towards one of the many trees. She flexed her wrist in a certain manner, and with a bang, a thin coil of wire shot out of the opening, with a spear tip like point on the end. Almost effortlessly, it bit into the bark of the tree, and with a backwards yank from the elf's arm, began to real itself in, taking her and her small friend along for the ride.

The Centurions were baffled, so much so, in fact, that they actually dropped their shields down for a moment, an advantage that Keira used to send a few of them on a one way trip to the afterlife. As she landed and yanked the grappling hook free, she turned about to move again, aware of just how exposed she was up here.

But then a roar shook the area, one that Keira was fairly certain hadn't come from a Metal Head. The reasoning behind her logic for that conclusion was simple enough: it sounded like something bigger.

Her thoughts were confirmed a moment later when the broken body of the third Cloaker went sailing into the clearing from the forest beyond.

* * *

&

* * *

And there it is, yet another evil cliffhanger from this amateur. Still, I suppose if I did this well enough, then we can all look forward to the end of the battle in the beginning of the next chapter, and of course, the little "spat" between Jak and Keira.

Hopefully, I didn't bore anyone to death with the details of how the sniper rifle/rail gun functions. If I did, feel free to hurl rotten produce, stones, or any other heavy/smelly objects in my direction, I assure you, I am used to it, thanks to my younger sibling.

Also, please feel free to let me know what you thought about this chapter in the form of a comment criticism, flame, or anything else of that nature.

Thanks, and have a great day.


	16. A Devil's Decision

(walks out, humming "Imperial March")

Greetings once again, good people. For once, I've actually managed to get an update out on time, despite the adverse effect of school, family, writer's block, and waiting in line to see Revenge of the Sith. Though, if I may say so, despite what Rolling Stone would have you believe, it is a very, very, good movie. Ian McDiarmid's (Darth Sidious) fight with Yoda is worth the price of admission alone. But enough about Star Wars.

To those of you who have been kind enough to review

**Farr2rich- **I can tell you in the sequel that I am already trying to pin down ideas for that there will indeed be a weapon that draws its power form light, but that is all that I can reveal. I'm glad you like this story though.

**SeventhSpanishAngel12- **Sorry about the cliffhanger, though I can assure you that this one does not end with such a plot device, at least, I think that it doesn't. Thanks for the vote of confidence, though. (bows)

**ChibiSess- **Don't worry, as far as I can tell, I believe that I'm only going to put in two, possibly three more cliffhangers before all is said and done. And Yep, D.J. is about to make another appearance, and cause yet another massacre. (cackles fiendishly)

**Shakai- **Yeah, sort of a interesting way to spark up a conversation. As far as the over ripe melon thing is concerned, do be sure to wear an apron or something of that nature, as it is quite messy. Hope you like this chapter too.

**Lunatic Pandora1- **Yeah, between Vergil, Dante, and a few other characters, I've come to realize that if a person shows up in a game set in modern times and whips out a sword, it is officially time to panic, as that is never a good thing, lol. As far as D.J. is concerned, if you think that he is bad now, just wait until later, I can tell you he will be picking up a few new...tricks of the trade, so to speak, and Keira will get to see plenty of our hero's inner demon before the tale comes to a close.

**Light-Eco-Sage**- You don't give yourself enough credit, your own writings are pretty good, and you're able to start new stories in original settings in a way that I can only wish I could. I'm glad you like what I've been doing though, and hopefully, this chapter won't be a disappointment to you, as I'm not sure how good it is.

**Paska- **(brushes off ice) Thanks, I wasn't too confident on that chapter, to say nothing of this one. As far as the whole DFHKJ deal is concerned, that's my way of alerting myself that I need to insert a scene change bar, as the asterisk's that I was using originally kept getting erased for some reason. My little brother was distracting me, though, and I forgot about that, hehe, thanks for pointing that out to me.

**Exardas- **Ouch, my sympathies about the teacher deals, I know how you feel. Good luck on Jak 2, its a lot harder than the third one, but I think its personally got a much better plot. Thanks again for your support.

**GoodMorningBeautiful2005- **Okay, here's the update, hopefully its alright.

**EvilManic- **Yeah, Keira's going to have a first hand introduction to Tall, Dark, and Gruesome. Though, I'm going to tell you that Jak will come to realize that his gift hasn't so much been lost as its simply been...altered, so to speak.

**DarkStarPhoenix- **I'm glad that you liked the chapter, cliffhanger aside. And, yes, Alex is Jak's first name, as I decided to make Mar the family surname, sort of as a way to remind the populace of the glory of the old days, if you know what I mean. I'd have to agree with you on the enemies listing, I'm not entirely sure if I've got em down right, but hopefully, I haven't screwed them up too badly (crosses fingers). Also, did you get that e-mail I tried to send to you, I'm not sure if I got the address right.

**daxter the otsel- **Thanks for giving the advice, lol, and as far as scarring the crap out of Keira, I'm not sure if I managed to pull that off, but she will be more than a little surprised.

**dude- **Yeah, when I first saw her in the game, having changed in absolutely no way since the last one, i basically though, na-uh, that can't possibly be right. Hopefully, I won't botch anything too badly as a result of trying to keep her relatively realistic, please let me no if I start to do a bad job.

**Xeno-Freak- **Thanks for the vote of confidence, I was afraid the last chapter wouldn't go over very well with the general populace, to say nothing of this one. Hopefully, I've managed to create a somewhat realistic 'first encounter' between D.J. and Keira (crosses fingers and mutters a quick prayer)

To everyone else who read but did not review, I do hope you found this story to be worth your time and effort, and that I haven't disillusioned you in any way form or fashion.

To any and all lawyers who are reading this, please, you've seen the previous fifteen chapters, you know that I don't own anything about this story except for one being that made a paragraph long appearance, so can we come to an understanding? Thank you.

Final word of warning, I struggled writing this chapter, so I am not too sure how good it is compared to the others.

* * *

&

* * *

A Devil's Decision

The two swords grated harshly against one another, and Jak snarled as he ducked another blast from that thing's gods accursed cannon. Growling, he spun around, and swung Kitetsu with all of his unnatural strength. Much to the surprise of both combatants, the Precursor forged weapon actually bit into the Cloaker's sword, and sliced cleanly through it. However, not exactly anticipating this, Jak found himself off balance, and about to fall into the snow, which he knew would not be a good thing.

Fortunately, something happened that prevented such an occurrence. Unfortunately, that something happened to be the Cloaker's size twenty-three foot connecting with the side of his face. After completing its spin kick, the Metal Head took advantage of Jak's backwards stagger, and fired its shoulder cannon point blank into his chest. The elf felt a searing pain, and a fairly decent amount of Dark Eco tainted blood went flying as he went sailing backwards.

Jak had mentioned before that his alter ego only tended to manifest himself when things really began to go south, and this was most definitely one of those times. Almost before he hit the ground, the dark elf could feel his own control receding as the demon rushed to his aid.

Needless to say, the Metal Head that had dared to injure its host was in for a nasty surprise. There was a crackling of lighting, and a growl that could not have come from the jaws of any elf or natural creature split the air. Electricity coursed down the length of Kitetsu, and the demon sprang back up. Realizing that its foe wasn't quite as dead as it had thought, the Cloaker lined up to fire again, but a blast of Channeled Dark Eco from the demon's talons destroyed the weapon before it could get a shot off.

To its credit, the demon's adversary did not panic, and instead adopted a combat stance reminiscent of a martial artist. However that offered it little defense against the sheer power of this monster. The demon charged forward, and shrugged off a pair of punches that would have put a Wastelander down for the count, before ripping the Metal Head off its feet with a single hand. Bringing it down close, it breathed into the masked face of its foe, and for a brief moment, Jak could have sworn he heard his alter ego utter something.

However, that thought was driven away as he watched with eyes that were his own yet not, as his inner demon extended its other hand, and put the creature over its head. It then squeezed both of its arms together, and despite the Cloaker's struggles, had succeeded in breaking its spine at the waist within a matter of seconds. That accomplished, it let out another roar of triumph, and hurled the broken Metal Head into the clearing. It then paused, and straining its ears, heard nervous chittering on the far of the glade, and realized that another group had shown up.

Keira, meanwhile, stared at the area that the Cloaker's body had been tossed from, and then watched with a sense of awe and confusion as the demon emerged. She stared at it, and noticed its resemblance to her friend, and could not stop a gasp from coming from her throat. At about the same time, the other group of Metal Head's stormed into the clearing, only to find themselves checking their mad rush in a very hasty and comical manner, as some Grunts and Drones actually had a small pileup.

"Daxter," she muttered, her voice barely audible, "talk to me, what's going on here?"

"Praise the Precursors!" the Ottsel shouted in response, sticking his hands in the air. "Tall, Dark and Gruesome to the rescue!"

Was this the creature that the diminutive rodent had been referring to earlier? Some sort of demonic battle form that Jak seemed to have come into possession of? Keira stared it over, unable to tear her eyes from this creature that the former Channeler had become. From its talons to its horns, it was a being that seemed to radiate power, and something within her told her that these Metal Heads were about to die. Still, neither side moved, and, on cue, a wind whipped through the clearing, kicking up a small amount of snow, and carrying a steaming cloud of the demon's breath away from it.

Abruptly, the Crab Head barked out something in its native tongue. Keira may not have understood the Metal Head language, but even Daxter was able to get the gist of the message.

Translated, it probably would have been something along the lines of a combination between "every man for himself," and "run like hell!"

The creature had a verbal response of its own, and as its courage sapping scream tore thought the forest. The three remaining Centurions raised their shields and opened fire on the beast, backpedaling as they did so, but they succeeding in doing little more than drawing its attention. Their shields might have protected them quite well from blasters and the like, but against the awesome powers this creature brought to bear, they might as well have been trash can lids, for all the good that they did them.

Keira watched, awestruck, as an orb of darkness formed in one of its taloned hands. Completely ignoring the energy bolts whizzing by and connecting with it, it hurled it at the trio of Metal Heads. They died before they even had a chance to scream.

Even as the dark bomb was snuffing out their lives, purple lightning was flying from the other hand, where it lanced its way through the Grunts and Drones, whose bodies spasmed and convulsed as the power of the Dark Eco sent them into Death's domain.

This left the Crab Head as the sole survivor, and snapping out of its stunned state, it immediately sent its twin blasters into action, throwing two paths of fully automatic blaster fire at the demon as it apparently realized that running would do little more than allow this thing to attack it without fear of retaliation. But even as the first pulses of energy sailed at it, it leapt up, and buried its talons into the tree next to the one that Keira and Daxter were in. As the Metal Head went to adjust its angle of fire, the demon launched itself at it. There was another hasty burst of fire, but all it succeeded in doing was blasting off the branch that the other two were in.

Keira let out a quick yelp and Daxter once more demonstrated his ability to scream with a volume one would normally associate with a far larger creature. Fortunately for them both, the snow underneath their tree was quite deep, and injuries were minor, though both were a little dazed and disoriented.

Hearing their cries, the demon looked up from where it had tackled the Crab Head into the ground, and upon seeing their prone forms, stared back into the Metal Head's face, its obsidian eyes literally burning with fury. For the creature had had quite some time to ponder about why its host spent so much time thinking about that strange green haired female, and with its ever growing mental prowess, at last believed itself to have reached a conclusion as to what she was to him. Needless to say, it had become quite protective of what it considered to be its master, and what it considered to be things close its master, and thus, to say that it was quite thoroughly pissed would have been an understatement to the highest degree.

Snarling, it reached down, locked its fangs around the throat of the unfortunate Metal Head, and then proceeded to tear out its jugular. It then contemptuously spat out the bit of flesh and climbed off the thrashing monster as it bled its lifeblood out upon the icy ground.

Back on the east side of the clearing, Keira sat up, shaking her head and groaning.

"I'm going to feel that in the morning." she muttered.

Abruptly, she felt a shadow fall over her, and she looked up and leaned her head back. Not surprisingly, she found her emerald eyes staring into the abyssal blackness of the demon's. Curiously, she felt no fear towards the creature, no nervousness despite the fact that it had just butchered a squadron of Metal Heads as easily as she could crush a handful of ants. Somehow, on a subconscious level, she understood that she would not be hurt by this demon, that despite its fearsome abilities, it was not some mindless killing machine.

She got up, holding her back slightly as she did so, and Daxter also stuck his head out of the snow bank that he had cratered into, muttering about pretty stars. The demon then chose that point in time to relinquish its hold upon its host. Seconds later, a relatively normal looking Jak appeared before them, panting.

"What, what was that?" Keira asked, staring at him, and noticing, as Ashelin had those weeks ago at the pumping station, the tattoo on his chest.

"A gift, from the local ruler, and his right hand psychopath." Jak responded bitterly, turning his back to her, as her question had just given him a reminder of why he had to forsake what was so important to him.

He sent a mental thanks to the creature, and was very much surprised at what happened next. In his mind's eye, it appeared. For several seconds, it contorted its face, before something unbelievable happened.

**_No…problem…_**

For a few seconds he was stunned, unable to comprehend what had just occurred. His inner demon had talked, it had created an actual verbal response. This meant one of two things, either the stress that he had been putting himself through lately had finally caused him to crack, or this creature was beginning to become less of a beast and more of an actual sentient being.

Opting not to voice what had just occurred, and putting such musings aside until he was in a more secure location, he turned back towards Keira, who was currently staring around the clearing through her visor trying to make certain they had indeed killed every last one of the things. Once she had confirmed that, she walked over to the now headless Crab Head commander.

"I don't understand it, there were way more here than the scouting reports indicated, and nobody mentioned anything about a leader being here." she mused, rubbing her chin.

Jak remained quiet, instead noticing something resembling a small pouch hanging from the side of the creature. Curiosity overwhelming him, he reached down, and opened it. He reached inside, and felt a small object, spherical, but with many intricate groves and designs etched into it. Pulling it out into the light of day, he felt his breath depart.

"Oh my gods," he uttered before he could stop himself.

"What is it..." Keira began as she looked up, and she too felt her lungs become deprived of air.

On cue, the golden orb split open, revealing numerous tiny sphere's inside of itself. Almost instantly, they began to whirl around, spinning and twirling in a seemingly random way, stopping every now and then.

"That was part of the Rift Machine…" the mechanic said, her voice awed.

"That's why they're out here." Jak said as realization hit him. "They're hunting for Precursor artifacts!"

"Why though?" Keira asked aloud, as the strange device closed again.

Abruptly, she took it from him, cradling it as carefully as one would a newborn infant. Jak didn't know it, but she had just found something she needed, something that would be their ticket home. However, Daxter took that point in time to grab their attention, as the Ottsel had waltzed over to the third Cloaker, some morbid curiosity drawing him to the now maskless corpse, as its facial protection had gone flying when the demon had turned it into a shot-put.

"Man," the Ottsel said, staring at its reptilian face as he stood on its chest, "you are one, _ugly_, mother fu…"

The former elf's obscene phrase was cut short, however, when the creature suddenly opened its eyes, revealing that it was not quiet a corpse just yet. Daxter yelped, and fell over backwards, waiting for the end to come. However, after several seconds, the realization hit him that he was still alive. Slowly, ever so cautiously, he got back up. What he saw surprised him.

The Cloaker was attempting to move its right arm, apparently through sheer force of will, if the bones sticking out of its flesh were any indication of the condition of that particular limb. Despite the agony it was in, the creature forced itself to move, it knew that it had to accomplish its goal. It couldn't allow for itself or its gear to be captured by these pointy ears, fortunately, they seemed sufficiently distracted by the corpses of the others. It ignored the small rodent on its chest, and instead, with great difficulty, opened a panel on its left wrist. With a weak growl, it pressed a few buttons, and let its right arm slump back down, its final mission accomplished.

"Hey, guys!" Daxter exclaimed, causing Jak and Keira to suddenly look over to him. "This freak is messing with something, and I don't think it's his wristwatch!"

"Daxter!" Keira screamed, gesturing frantically. "Get the hell away from that thing!"

The Ottsel seemed confused, until he heard it. He looked down to the wrist panel that the Cloaker had accessed, and noticed a strange display, its symbols changing. Accompanying that, was a telltale beeping sound, growing louder and more frequent by the second. It took the Ottsel approximately three of those time units to figure out what that meant. His eyes widened, and he ran away as fast as his little legs could carry him, screaming all the while.

Meanwhile, the mortally wounded Metal Head stuck its left arm into the air, and made a fist. It then shouted something in its native tongue, before a flash of light enveloped it, and a roar drowned out just about every other sound.

Daxter felt the searing heat, and his cries picked up in their intensity. Amazingly, the Ottsel's diminutive size would prove to be his salvation, as the shockwave of the blast picked him up and actually threw him away from the small nova that the Cloaker had just turned itself into. However, much to his dismay, the end of his tail was still turned into a candle.

The fuzzy rodent hit the ground running, screaming at the top of his lungs as he raced back and forth in front of the two elves, quickly setting a new land speed record, and apparently forgetting all about the stop, drop, and roll maneuver that Samos had taught them as children.

"Waaaaaahhhhh! For the love of the Precursors, put me out! Put me out!" he shouted, repeating himself several times in a way that most would find to be quite humorous.

"Daxter!" Jak snarled, causing the Ottsel to suddenly pivot about in his panicking, and receive a rather large snowball to his chest, which knocked him backwards and effectively extinguishing the flames.

"Th-th-thank you." he stuttered, now painfully aware of the cold.

"What was that?" Jak asked Keira as he yanked their friend up out of the snow and into a pocket of his coat.

"A failsafe device that all Cloakers have integrated into their armor." the mechanic explained, following Jak as he walked back over to where he had dropped his sword and gun. "In the event of possible capture, they activate that bomb, and fifteen seconds later, anything within about forty feet of them is dust."

"Why would they be so worried about being captured?" the dark elf muttered to himself as he retrieved his weapons, not fully understanding what made those particular types so important.

"Think about it, Jak," Keira said, walking alongside of him, "if we ever got our hands on that technology, and we managed to crack it…just think what we could do with it!" She exclaimed, her eyes glowing with excitement. "That's another reason we got so lucky with that one earlier, that's probably the first bit of Cloaker gear to be retrieved that's actually salvageable. Every other time, they've either fought until their equipment is battered beyond recognition, or they've blown themselves up."

"So we're going to swing back by that clearing to pick that corpse up?" he asked, keeping his voice cold and neutral.

"Yeah, you give me two weeks alone with that stuff, without interruptions, and I can practically guarantee that I'll crack it!" Keira responded. "And then think of the advantage that'll give us in this war, the Baron and his men won't even see us coming, literally!"

That would definitely give the resistance forces an edge on Praxis and company, and it was something that the dark elf admitted, privately at least, that he wouldn't mind trying out. Still he did not let his mind dwell upon it for long. He had, at last, reached his decision about what to do about this elf next to him, one that he would have sacrificed anything for. Though it wracked his very soul with grief, he knew what he had to do.

* * *

They were almost back at their vehicles, having stopped only long enough to field strip the corpse of that rookie Cloaker. Throughout the trip back, the dark elf had remained quiet, and had kept his attitude towards Keira chilled, to say the least. She was confused about his actions, wondering what he was thinking. She had waited for this moment for so long, and of all things, to have it ruined by some eavesdropping Metal Head. Had it been possible, she had little doubt in her mind that she would have revived the creature simply so it could be killed again.

But that thought was a minor one, compared to the dilemma at hand, and no small amount of worry that was spreading through her like a dark tide. There was something about Jak, about the way he was distancing himself from her, that just had her on edge. Did it have something to do with what had happened to him? He said that the creature that he had turned into during their scrape with the Metal Heads was the result of something that Praxis and Errol had done to him. Was he afraid of what she thought of him?

Abruptly, she looked around, and realized that they were back in the place where they had left their transportation. Wordlessly, the dark elf set the captured equipment down by her backpack, before walking over to his own speeder, accompanied by Daxter, who had by this time thawed himself sufficiently to move around on his own again. Keira knew that she had to act fast, as she had come to realize how short life could be and how quickly death could claim someone.

"Jak," she cried, "wait up a minute!"

He turned around to face her, his stance radiating a chillness even greater than that of the winter air.

"What is it, Keira?" he said, crossing his arms.

"I…I just wanted to…" she began, before he cut her off.

"Trust me, Keira, you don't want to finish that sentence." he told her, his soul in agony over what he was about to do, what he had to do.

"What…what are you talking about?" she asked, her tone wary.

"What we once had, what we once shared, it's gone." he said, and he turned around to leave.

Only to be stopped by her grabbing his arm. He whirled around, noting the pleading in her eyes, that she was hoping, no, begging, that this was all his sick idea of a joke. How he wished that it was only that easy.

"I'm not the elf you knew Keira, I'm not the boy you used to love in Sandover!" he growled, ripping his arm back out of her grasp.

"You think I haven't changed either? You think that I just happened to crash land in this dump one day and have a nice cushy job as a mechanic the next?" she shot back, and tears began to brim on her eyes as the memories returned to her.

In a flash, Kitetsu had been drawn. There was a hiss, and the telltale sound of flesh being penetrated by the blade. Keira's eyes widened, and she choked back a gasp. Jak had just taken the dark katana and thrust it through his own left hand. Slowly, with deliberate intent, he withdrew the blade, letting her eyes drink in the sight of blood and Dark Eco coursing down the length of the alien weapon. He then showed her his wound, and she watched as it slowly closed, and the flow of darkness ceased.

"Before my first day here was out, I found myself conscripted into a military project of the Baron's," the dark elf snarled, "for the next two years, I got pumped so full of Dark Eco that I now bleed that shit!"

"You think I care about that?" Keira said, her voice finally breaking. "You think that I care that you bleed that stuff, that I care that you can turn into some sort of monster?"

"You just don't understand it, do you?" Jak responded bitterly. "The boy you loved in Sandover died in prison, those experiments killed him, and this," he spread his arms out slightly, "bitter, soulless shell is all that is left of him. I am a shell of what I used to be, Keira, something that is driven by vengeance and feeds off of the pain that I cause Praxis. I have become someone with nothing left to live for."

"That's not true." she whispered, as a tear streaked its way down her face. "You have us, you have Daxter, you have me…" she trailed off, and the dark elf knew what she would have said to finish that, had words not failed her.

Slowly, he turned his back on her, forsaking her for her own good. Summoning all of his willpower, the former Channeler resumed his walk towards his speeder, where Daxter stood, stunned into silence by what had just occurred. He mounted up, kick-started the hover bike, and turned it around. He then paused, and looked back over his shoulder, his eyes nearly seared by what he saw, by the pain that he knew he was putting her through.

"Forget about me, Kier," he said, once more invoking her old nickname, "I'm not what you think I am. I am a Fallen Angel, a devil." he paused, preparing himself for the hardest words he'd ever have to say in his life. "And demons…cannot…love…"

Without another word, he pressed the accelerator, and he was gone. Jak, the boy that she had loved in her youth, and the man that she still did, despite whatever had been done to him, was gone, this time, apparently forever.

Not knowing what to do, she collapsed to her knees, and let the tears fall.

What she did not see, and neither did Daxter, who was currently using what little bit of his mental resources that weren't reeling from what had just occurred to hang on to Jak's shoulder, was the look upon the elf's face. It was the face of a man who had been deprived of something more precious than life itself, of someone wracked by grief that went beyond simple loss. Navigating through the trees, he felt something that he had choked back for so long, but this time, he did nothing to stop it. It built up rapidly, and with a blink, spilled over. It was then, for the first time in his living memory, that Jak allowed for a tear, a single drop of sorrow, to trace its way down his face.

* * *

&

* * *

Okay, like I said earlier, I'm not sure how good this one was, as I am quite certain that Jak's actions are clichéd and that I sort of erred on overkill when it comes to the sappiness factor. Hopefully, though, it didn't suck too badly.

In the next couple of chapter's Jak's going to explain himself to Daxter, and we'll finally learn a little more about Torn, and this mysterious Delta Squad that he was a member of.

So, feel free to leave a comment if you want too, constructive criticism, idea (those are especially welcome), or even a flame.

Thanks for your time, and have a great day.


	17. A Delta's Honor, Part One: Gearing Up

Good day to you people, its good to see you all again. Rather nervous about this chapter (jeez, what an earth-shattering bit of news that is). This chapter marks what will hopefully be a three part "mini-series" if you will, about some of my take on Torn's past, staring with a brief introduction of him and his squad buddies, one of whom will likely be very familiar to you people (dear God, I know I'm gonna get lynched for this).

Anyway, my own fears of impending doom aside, to those of you kind enough to review:

**Xeno-Freak- **I'm glad that you enjoyed the chapter, I was more than a little worried about how that would go over (laughs nervously). As far as D.J. is concerned, I'm really not sure if the Dark Eco will effect his personality at all, though I have an idea of what to base it off of, and I'm fairly certain that it hasn't been done yet. As far as the whole flight deal...weeeeeellllll...we'll just have to wait and see, won't we? Thanks again.

**Light-Eco-Sage- **Yes, the movie ruled, and Anakin kicked so much rear...right up until he got overconfident and screwed up royally...oh well...lesson to be learned. As for Keira and her own back story, I'm still trying to pin down some more precise details, so it'll come along a little later, once Jak has stopped being an idiot.

**Farr2rich- **Don't worry about those two, rest assured, they'll patch things up soon, I wouldn't dream of just leaving things like that. Jak will fill you in more on why he did that, though most will probably think he's being a bit of a blockhead. At any rate, I checked out your story, and you're doing pretty good, and I hope you've found my would be advice useful. At any rate, hope you like this chapter too.

**Lunatic Pandoar1- **Don't worry about Jak and Keira, this story will adhere to the rules of all fantasy and video games, namely in this case, that the good guys win and everyone goes home happy, so to speak. About our favorite inner demon, the reason he seems so...angry, when he makes an appearance is that he's always showing up when things get shot to hell, so the only side we see is the amped up super warrior that count chrome dome and his right hand psycho were trying to create. Now that he's learning how to talk, I'll try to show the other side that I've always thought was there. Wish me luck, I'm going to need it.

**GoodMorningBeautiful2005- **Glad you liked it, may this one be just as enjoyable.

**ChibiSess- **Lol, can't say that my computer's ever done that to me, probably because it knows better (shoots it a look). As for Jak explaining himself, I meant why he gave Keira the cold shoulder, so to speak. Also, yes, D.J. is learning how to communicate, though I'll go ahead and tell you that the others won't hear him talk until after he undergoes his metamorphosis. Hopefully, that'll add a touch of surrealism and suspense to that partiuclar moment.

**Paska- **(taps into telekinetic powers, grabs the freezer, and then proceeds to chuck it at younger brother, laughing fiendishly the whole time). Sorry, little bro messed something of mine up this week, and did a few more things that generally managed to piss me off. Yeah, I know Jak was being a bit clichéd, hopefully that didn't ruin the entire chapter, and the same goes for this one. About the Metal Heads. Well, in the case of the Cloakers, my first impression upon seeing those guys was: "Okay, yet another rip-off of the Predators", so I figured I'd go ahead and finish what ND started by giving them shoulder cannons, blades, and a micro-nuke strapped to their wrists. As for the Crab Head, well, the gold armor was actually an idea that I got from Halo, with the gold armored Elites. Yeah, it does make them stand out, but their armor's a much stronger, though it obviously didn't help much against a slug going twenty times the speed of sound.

**DarkStarPhoenix- **Once again, I'll be the first one to admit that there are authors out here wayyyyyy better than me. About Jak in the last chapter, he'll explain why he did what he did, and don't worry about him losing the ability to fight with his bare hands, as this chapter should give you a clue regarding that. Also, once D.J. final gets around to evolving, his fighting styles going to be, extremely, unorthodox, and he'll have a few moves that will actually be inspired by the way in which General Grievous fought in the first season of Star Wars: Clone Wars (the way he should have been in the movie, as in the cartoon he was taking on five Jedi at once and giving them their rear-ends on a silver platter). Also, thanks for including your email, did I manage to do it right this time?

**Exardas- **Actually, believe it or not, Vergil and Dante are two of the biggest influences on this story, and I'm toying with the idea of bringing in some influence form another grey haired blade master, though this one will be from FF7. Thanks again for your support, and I hope you continue to enjoy what I turn out.

**Shakai- **Yep, those two will be talking in few chapters (D.J. needs to expand his vocabulary first). Also, yes, Jak and Keira will patch things up later, don't worry. Though I feel inclined to say that Keira has had her own trials and tribulations while she was running around by herself in the slums. Thanks for the vote of confidence.

**daxtet the otsel- **Thanks for the advice, once again you have helped to steer me in a direction that's worked out quite well. As for our favorite Dark Channeler and Techno-wiz, don't worry, I wouldn't dream of trying to mess that relationship up. Regrettably, I've never actually played the first game, though I have been able to get a fairly decent amount of back story about it. However, if you still haven't been able to find what you're looking for, head to and look there, they've probably got what it is you're looking for.

To those of you who did read, but did not review, I hope you found this worth your time and effort.

To any and all lawyers looking for a frivolous lawsuit: I hereby swear that I do not own Jak and Daxter, Devil May Cry, Halo, Star Wars: Republic Commando, Final Fantasy, Ninja Gaiden, or anything else that has had an influence upon this story and the characters within.

Word of warning, this is another chapter that goes over a heap of techno mumbo jumbo, so I apologize in advance if I bore anyone to sleep.

* * *

&

* * *

A Delta's Honor, Part One: Gearing Up

The trees blurred past, but he barely registered where they were, relying on his sub-consciousness to guide him safely through the forest. The world could have ended then and there, and he would not have noticed, nor would he have particularly cared, so wracked with grief was he. That last sight he had seen of Keira, of her on her knees, sobbing, tore at him from the inside, and the pleading look in her eyes haunted his mind, refusing to leave it.

The creature within him remained silent, trying to fathom what had just occurred. The way in which its host had thought of the other elf, the way his thoughts drifted to her, had left it with little doubt as to what she was. But now, now it was utterly clueless. Quietly, it probed deeper into its hosts memories, sifting through them, a strange curiosity driving it onward, demanding to know what the dark elf had turned his back on something so dear to him.

Jak was completely oblivious to its actions, so shut out was he. In fact, it wasn't until a good fifteen minutes later that he was finally yanked back to reality by, as fate would have it, none other than Daxter. The Ottsel had been stunned speechless, utterly unable to comprehend, and refusing to believe what he had just seen. He had seen the love that Jak had Keira had shared for each other during the time they had spent together growing up. And despite the fact that he had made it something of a hobby to try and interrupt their 'moments' together, he had felt so certain that the two of them we're going to wind up having one of those story book type romances, despite the fact that Jak hadn't been able to talk.

So what in the Precursor's name had just happened?

It was something Daxter intended to find out.

"Alright," he yelled, thumping Jak on the shoulder to get his attention, "stop the bike, stop the bike!"

"What is, Dax?" Jak inquired as he complied with his friend's wishes, his voice somber and broken.

"What do you think?" the former elf inquired, moving around to where he was on the handlebars of speeder and waving his arms wildly, "What the hell was that back there?"

"I don't want to talk about it." the dark elf responded bitterly, his head down low, and at last, Daxter saw the wet trail left by that single tear that he had shed.

This stunned him again momentarily, as he had never seen Jak cry before, not even that time when he had stumbled into that wump-bee nest and wound up looking like someone had imprinted brail writing onto his skin. However, for once, he was quick to return his mind to the subject at hand.

"Na-Uh, you aren't getting out this that easily." the Ottsel growled. "Jeez, Jak, the girl of your dreams was about to spill her heart to you, again, and you just turned your back on her! Come on, you're supposed to be the smarter of the two of us!" he said, exasperated.

"Daxter, think about it." Jak said, sighing bitterly. "Both Praxis and Errol are gunning for me, especially since they've seen me in action now. They want me back in their labs, and they're going to try to make that happen through any means necessary, even if that means bringing those around me into the crosshairs." He looked up, staring his Ottsel friend in the eyes. "I'm not going to put her in danger like that, I'm not going to risk her getting hurt because of me."

"Do you have any idea how moronic you are being?" Daxter shot back. The Ottsel could hardly believe the situation, Jak had left Keira in tears back at the clearing, and here he was trying to play the relationship doctor. "You don't think she'd be willing to risk that for you, and besides, you saw it, she can take care of herself."

"There's another thing, Dax." the dark elf replied, "how much longer do you think I can keep doing what I've been doing?"

"Eh?" was Daxter's reply.

"Think about it, buddy, ever since we got here, I've cheated death more times than any one person has a right too. Sooner or later, my luck's going to run out, and I'm going to slip up, make a mistake, and find myself on a one way trip to the hereafter." The former Channeler responded quietly. "I saw how much pain that our disappearance put Keira through, I could see it in her eyes. When the time finally comes when I get sent out and I don't come back, I don't want to hurt her like that again."

Daxter could not believe his ears, and found himself torn between wanting to try shouting again to get his point across to his friend, or simply opting to slap some sense back into him. In the end, though, he chose to do neither of them, opting instead to simply mutter under his breath, and once more hop onto his familiar perch.

* * *

Their arrival back at base had been a strange one. They had met the Shadow, only to discover that they had been slaving away to meet none other than "old log-in-the-head, Grandpa Green," as Daxter had put it. However, Samos had not remembered them in the slightest, which had resulted in a rather…awkward conversation. Once that had been accomplished, and all parties involved were thoroughly and hopelessly confused, the Sage, who looked as if he had gotten a good decade and a half shaved off of his age, had gotten a rather urgent call on his comm., and had left rather hastily, leaving Alex for Torn to look after. Daxter had also gone off on his own, saying that he needed to be alone.

"So, you managed to wipe out the patrols?" Torn inquired, crossing his arms.

"Down to the last snarling Grunt." Jak muttered, and the Ex-Delta standing across from him instantly cocked an eyebrow.

"What went wrong?" he asked, eyeing the dark elf suspiciously.

Jak's initial response was a glare in his direction, but then, for some unknown reason, perhaps as simple as just wanting to share where he was coming from, began to explain what had happened, from start to finish, with a few obvious fabrications to prevent it from sounding like he needed to be hauled off in a strait jacket. Needless to say, once he had finished, Torn was very much surprised. He had no idea that the Underground's arguably best, if somewhat unpredictable soldier, and the undercover tech-head had known each other in childhood. He also didn't miss the pain in the dark elf's eyes as he spoke of what had occurred after the battle. After all, the hardened commander could relate, as he couldn't forget the position that Errol had forced him into. It was a decision that he still hadn't made yet, but with a growing sense of doom, knew what he was leaning towards.

For some time no words were exchanged between the two. At last, Torn let out a bitter chuckle.

"So, you're getting it too?" he asked.

"Pardon?" Jak responded, a little confused.

"They say that soldiers, after they've been fighting for a while, start to get a sixth sense, something that warns them when danger is approaching." Torn explained. "They also say that it grows to a point to where they know when their time is about up, if you know what I mean."

"You seem rather knowledgeable about all of this." the dark elf growled, trying to once again suppress the memories of a certain green haired female.

"Don't think you're the only one to ever get that feeling, Jak." the tattooed ex-Delta shot back.

"You seem to still be breathing to me." the underground soldier said, a smirk plastered on his visage.

"What would you know!" Torn snarled, shooting him a look that would have knocked a Hellcat from the sky. "I've survived through nothing more than sheer, dumb, luck!"

Jak remained silent, stunned by the sudden change that had come over Torn. The snarl remained on the commander's face until, surprisingly enough, a certain six year old mute came over and started to hug his around the leg. Instantly, Torn's mood did an about face, and he calmed down considerably.

"What is it with you and him?" the former Channeler inquired, cocking an eyebrow.

"Never really been able to figure that one out myself." Torn said, his voice barely above a whisper. "By everything I can figure, he should hate me, after all, I'm the reason that he's in this position. Hell," he continued, his voice bitter "everything that's been happening since the Baron took over is my fault."

"How so?" Jak asked, puzzled to say the least, but grateful fro something to take his mind off of Keira.

Torn remained silent, his face unreadable. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, he spoke.

"I don't even know why I'm going to tell you this." he muttered, before looking Jak directly in the eyes. "Guess I might as well start from the beginning of my career. To give you the first decade and a half of my life in a nutshell, let's just say that I was an orphan who decided to lie about his age and join the military." he began, and Jak could tell that he did not want him prying any further back than the start of said career. "You said that you weren't from around here?" he inquired, getting an affirmative nod from the dark elf. "Well, then you need to know that the Krimzon Guard isn't a new thing. That's always been the name of Haven's rank and file military, supposed to be a way to honor the sacrifices of those that have given their blood to keep this place in one piece.

"However, things were a little different back in Damas' day. Above the K.G., we had the Praetorian Guard."

"Praetorian Guard?" Jak said, again somewhat confused.

"They were the elites, their skills beyond that of the regulars. They wore blue colored armor, and usually guarded the palace, kind of like Praxis' commandos do today." the commander explained.

"Let me guess," Jak interrupted, "you were one of them, weren't you?"

"Only for a little while." Torn answered. "Command decided after a couple of months that my skills were better suited in another branch of the guard." He paused for a brief moment, his eyes shinning in a rare moment of pride. "I was commissioned to be a group commander within a division known as the Delta Squads."

"Was this one of those top secret black ops units or something?" Jak asked again.

"Yes, and no." Torn responded, before elaborating. "We were a group of covert operations squads, but the public knew that we existed, they just didn't know what it was that we did."

"Which was?" the dark elf prompted.

"Everything." the tattooed commander responded. "If Damas needed a scouting report on an area thick with Metal Heads, he sent us in. If they were setting up a base camp and his Majesty wanted it leveled, or a specified target taken out, we were the ones chosen to get the job done…"

"Alright, alright, I get the idea." Jak said with a snort.

"Anyways," Torn continued, "the Delta Squad division always had sixteen members, divided into four man squads, no more, no less. I lead my men to the best of my abilities, and I took pride in the fact that we always came home with everyone still breathing." He said, his eyes suddenly getting a faraway look to them. "I'd been in the unit for about three and a half years before our biggest mission came up…"

* * *

He snapped his left forearm up, blocking a vicious downward chop from his opponent. No sooner did that happen, than did a kick, aimed at his ribs, come sailing in, forcing him to roll to one side. He came up spinning, forcing his opponent to duck beneath a round-house that would have stretched him out on the mat.

He ignored the cheering from those standing around him, ignored the friendly wagers and comradely jeers from the others. They might as well have been on another planet, for all he cared right now. At the moment, there was only him, and his opponent. Punch, thrust, block, counter strike, there was no hesitation between either adversaries, the whole match was one continuous movement.

Finally, after several more minutes of blurred hand to hand combat, his opponent slipped up. A thrust kick aimed squarely at his chest came at him, and with a gleam of victory, he grabbed his opponent's foot, before twisting it violently. This gave his adversary a single choice: follow through with his foot's movement, or run the risk of having a very, very nasty fracture…or so he thought.

The elf's opponent did indeed twist about in mid-air, what he did not anticipate, however, was his adversary suddenly lashing out with his other leg as it left the ground, catching him squarely across the head. A couple of seconds later, down on the canvas, he felt a knee press into his spine. Groaning, he slapped the mat a couple of times to indicate his surrender.

The next thing he knew, he was being helped to his feet, and shaking his head, he saw his adversary's face, smirking in triumph.

"Jeez, Anton," he said, rolling his eyes, "that's what, the fifth time I've laid you out with that move? I would have though that you'd have caught on to me by now."

"Not my fault that you've mastered the Echani arts better than the rest of us, Torn." the Delta muttered as he got to his feet, still trying to shake the stars from his vision.

Torn chuckled, and pumped his fist into the air, before turning to face his brothers. His three fellow squad mates were whooping up a storm, even Ackerson seemed to have left his down to business side behind to watch his commander once again stand triumphant in the battle ring.

Torn had always been an unusual case when it came to the martial arts. He took his training and altered it to suit his tastes, and even stranger, seemed to purposefully throw in a mistake or two, or to possess a small flaw in the way that he fought. However, it was nothing more than a ruse, as many a foe had found out, a trick to lure an opponent into a hole in his defenses that wasn't really there.

But, while Torn excelled in up close and personal combat, and was quite handy with a blaster rifle, there were some areas that he wasn't quite as good in. And, like any decent group, that was where his brothers came in.

He looked to them, he knew them well, like he should. There was Ackerson, Delta Twenty Eight, a pure and uncomplicated soldier, who happened to serve as his squad's heavy weapons specialist. It was surreal almost, in fact, how accurate he was when it came to the massive, anti-armor fuel rod cannon that he always carried over his back, almost as if he knew exactly where the enemy was going to dodge in an attempt to evade the incoming shot. Although, many a smaller Metal Head could also attest, posthumously, of course, that he was almost as equally adept when it came to laying waste to enemy infantry with his weapon.

Standing on his left was Michael, or Hunter as he preferred to be called, designated Delta Oh Five when out in the field. He was the squad marksman, and was with his S2 AM sniper rifle what Ackerson was to a fuel rod cannon. However, the similarity between the two of them ended with accuracy.

If Ackerson was cold and impersonal on the battlefield, then Hunter brought equilibrium to the group for his sheer love of battle. That, when combined with his dark hair and eyes, somewhat Russian accent, and the ferocity with which he did his work, made others uneasy around him at times. Furthermore, the fact that he talked about some rather disturbing things in his sleep from time to time, had caused Walon Vau, the overseer of the Delta Squadrons, to order a psychiatric exam on several occasions. However, that he was still in the military testified to the fact that, believe it or not, he was quite sane.

And finally, the soul of the squadron, Jynx, Delta number Sixty Seven. He was the group's demolitions expert and a pyromaniac to the truest sense. The blond haired soldier was also something of a jokester, with his sense of humor compensating for Ackerson's stiffness and resulting in some highly amusing banter between him and Hunter from time to time. Unfortunately, there were some occasional mishaps in which he would suffer from getting a little too enthusiastic about the job, and the end result would be a crater and/or explosion several times larger than what was originally intended. On the other hand, so far, that sort of antic had only resulted with a few more enemies getting barbequed than anticipated, and therefore made the job that much easier, so no one really complained about his handiwork after the fact.

His critique of his squadron was cut short as the doors to their training facility opened up, revealing none other than their commanding officer. Instantly, all sixteen Deltas snapped into a parade formation, and gave salutes that would have brought tears of joy to a drill sergeant. It was to be expected, after all, considering the respect that the men held for their C.O. Colonel Vau was one of those older school type officers that Damas favored, the ones who had earned their promotions through battles, rather than political maneuvering, those who had, at least at some point in time, practiced what they'd preached.

The Colonel had spent more than fifteen years serving with the Deltas actively, before a cumulative injury list that was practically in scientific notation forced him into a desk job. However, with a little bit of pleading, arrangements had been made for said desk job to be overseeing the newest generation of black ops troopers.

"At ease." he growled, looking over the soldiers. "It's time for the briefing, Deltas, now report to the operations room."

Almost before the words were out of his mouth, the troopers were making their way towards the briefing room, their eyes shinning with eager anticipation. It was only natural, after all, they had been training for this mission for the past six months, and at long last, were going to be able to put that training to use.

* * *

"Alright, boys, this is it, your baptism by fire." Walon said, gesturing to the holo-tank, which lit up as the lights of the room dimmed and revealed a computerized image of the infamous Metal Head Nest and the landscape surrounding it. "As you all know, our not so friendly neighbors have been becoming increasingly aggressive over the past year or so, and as a result we've been planning an assault upon their living quarters. Well, Damas and Command have finally decided that it's now or never, and as per usual, they've decided to make you guys earn your pay."

Quiet mutters were exchanged among the Deltas, as they wondered what in the world their commanders could have cooked up that would be more hazardous than launching a direct assault upon the nest. Colonel Vau was quick to go into further detail in regards to that matter. He pointed the holo-tank, and the images within it changed, zooming in on several different locations around the enemy stronghold.

"Advanced reconnaissance patrols have identified several smaller canyons and tunnels that branch out away from the nest that could allow for the Metal Heads to rush out reinforcements and give the infantry regulars even more problems than they're probably going to have." he continued. "So, given our history of dangerous, and in some cases, outright suicidal, tasks, it has fallen to us to see to it that those holes are plugged."

Torn leaned back in his seat, contemplating what this would mean. At the same time, Jynx's hand shot into the air, and his squad leader smirked, knowing by heart what he was about to ask.

"Sir," he inquired, once the Colonel had nodded in his direction, "what kind of party favors are we going to be passing out to our metal skulled friends?"

"M9-DPs, Sixty Seven." Walon said, a grim smile on his features.

Instantly, the demolitions specialist's eyes lit up, and he rubbed his hands together gleefully, resulting various snorts and quiet laughs form his brothers, Torn being among them.

Of all the various means by which the pyromaniac had burned, blasted, detonated, or otherwise blown up his enemies, the M9-DP "Havoc" tactical charge was by far one of, if not the, favorite. It was small, almost resembling the plastique explosives used two centuries earlier in that it was a semi-pliable block that was about six by six by two inches. However, inside that deceptively tiny package was enough explosive material to level a two story house. With their small size enabling Jynx to carry almost a dozen, Torn was left with little doubt that the Metal Heads would have their work cut out for them when they tried to dig their way out cave ins they would be causing.

* * *

The rest of the briefing had gone on smoothly, and the elves were now in the armory slipping into their Katarn Mark I battle armor. Each suit was custom made for its owner, ensuring maximum flexibility and comfort, a very useful feature considering that it was often worn for days at a time when out in the field. Furthermore, each suit also held one other advantage over standard issue equipment: the material from which it was made, ferrosteel. It was a relatively new alloy, far stronger and studier than Titanium A, and also considerably lighter. However, being that it was newly discovered, meant that the process for producing this miraculous metal hadn't exactly been pinned down very well, which resulted in each suit costing more to make than a Scorpion M808 assault tank.

Adding to that already hefty price tag was the helmet of the armor. Equipped with numerous electronic systems that did everything from sense motion around the Delta, to tagging the cause of such movement with a state of the art 'Friend or Foe' system, to the macro-binoculars that were built into each one, which also possessed a low light viewing system for obvious practical reasons, not to mention a specialized private comm. frequency for inter-squad communications, it was truly a masterpiece in the realm of head protection. However, such protection did come at a price, as they were all under strict orders to keep their armor in tip-top condition…with a month's KP duty being the price for failing to adhere to that order.

Still, this was not to say that the Delta's weren't allowed to do anything to their Katarn armor, as every one of them had found some way to individualize his or hers. Torn had opted for black, which he had felt efficiently combined intimidation with practicality, as the dark color would help him to blend in better in certain situations. Hunter, true to his somewhat feral nature, had opted for blood red, painting several stripes that looked like battle wounds and at one point, had gone so far as dipping his hand into the paint bucket that he was using, before proceeding to very carefully put his own palm print on his helmet. Jynx, ever the pryo, had used orange, which if one were to look closely, would realize was actually applied in a way to make it look as if fire was raining down from the heavens. Ackerson had chosen green, for some reason that no one quite understood, nor was he in the mood to explain, so they had quickly let the subject drop.

Next, came the weapons. Again, each member of the elite squadrons chose different ones, depending upon their tastes and preferences.

Torn, as he almost always did when faced with a general mission type, chose the ever reliable BR-55 assault rifle. It was sturdy, had a decent rate of fire and high accuracy, which was backed up by a 2X optical scope, and could also be outfitted with an under slung grenade launcher for when a little extra "oomph" was needed. Backing that up was a pair of DCs-15 pistols, a bandolier chock-full of grenades, and, of course, his knife.

Deltas Twenty Eight and Oh Five chose their respective favorites, and Jynx, well, his choice of armaments was highly unusual. In the heat of battle Delta Sixty Seven was infamous for whipping out a pair of DC-17 submachine guns. Packing average stopping power and surprising accuracy when employed correctly, the "Eco hoses", as he fondly referred to them, were capable of laying down some rather extraordinary suppressive fire, and could chew their way through Grunts and Drones like it was nobodies business. The only problem with them was their high rate of fire meant that he had to be somewhat careful when employing them, as it was all too easy to run out of ammo when one got careless.

It was about that time, once they had finished gearing up, that none other than Queen Alicia herself came into the armory, flanked by her brother, General Praxis, commander of the armed forces. Before the door had even hissed shut behind them, one could have heard a pin drop as the Delta Squad soldiers snapped into a salute with almost machine like precision.

Watching them like this, staring into their eerie, glowing visors, the queen couldn't help but feel a little unnerved. And she knew that she wasn't alone, as when the Delta's made public appearances, they were always fully armed and armored, which was the source behind several popular rumors that they weren't even flesh and blood soldiers. In her case, though, it wasn't exactly fear that she felt, per say, as she had no doubt about their loyalty, but rather, the feeling that she had just barged into a highly exclusive club of which she was obviously not a member. Still, she and her sibling selected two of them, by chance Torn and Jynx, to go and help "drag her husband away from his son long enough to go win a war."

* * *

They found him exactly where they thought they would, in the training room. Not surprisingly, he had apparently just finished his routine, and was now playing around with his child.

"Little tyke's going to be just like his father someday." General Praxis remarked, smiling faintly.

"You got that right, my old friend." Damas said, before he took his wife into his embrace and kissed her affectionately.

Alex, not surprisingly at his age, made a face that caused all three of them to laugh, and caused Torn to smile slightly behind his helmet. Damas then ruffled Alex's hair, and passed him to his mother.

"You take care of your mother, you hear me?" the king said, getting a vigorous nod from his son. He then turned to his brother in law, clapping him on the shoulder. "Come on then, my friend, the sooner we go to this battle, to sooner we get to come home."

The two of them walked past the Deltas, and they pivoted about, leaving the queen and prince alone within the training dojo.

* * *

"Be careful, Torn, or I swear to the Precursors that I'll prove I can be more dangerous than anything you'll face out there, you understand?" Ashelin said, prodding him in the chest with a finger.

"Isn't saying that to a superior officer disrespecting the ranks?" the Delta asked, cocking his head slightly, his voice partially distorted by the external speakers that allowed her to hear him.

The ensign standing across from him glared, which resulted in him chuckling. The two of them were always like this, ever since he had joined the military. After an initial personality clash that had landed them both in serious trouble, they'd become fast friends, and both had learned quite a bit from one another. Unfortunately, their paths had pretty much been separated once Torn had been recruited into the Delta Squads. Ashelin's scores and leadership skills had been good enough that they'd looked at her too, but her old man had put his foot down the moment he'd been notified of that possibility. It didn't take a genius to know that he cared a great deal for his daughter.

"Don't worry," the Delta told his friend, "I don't plan on dying today."

"Just don't do anything stupid, alright?" she asked, crossing her arms and frowning at him.

"You know me." he retorted, amusement present in his voice.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about." she growled as he turned around and tromped off towards his squad's designated drop ship.

Several hundred feet higher than her, Alicia stood with her son in her arms, watching as the transports loaded up. The infantry drop ships and Hellcats swarmed all over the city in numbers not seen in the last two decades. And if one were to look at the statistics for what Haven was about to throw at the Metal Heads, one would understand why.

The attacking forces consisted of three infantry divisions, more than sixty _thousand _ground troops, even more so when one threw in the Praetorian elites who would be accompanying them. These soldiers were going to be backed up by the Seventh, Ninth and Twelfth Panzer heavy armor battalions, which were currently loading their Scorpions, all four hundred of them, into Halcyon transport ships. And then, no less than six hundred Hellcat gunships for close air support. It was obvious to even the most simpleminded person that Damas was most certainly not going to be pulling his punches in this conflict.

In waves, the ships rose, watched by the citizens of Haven City, who prayed to whoever might be watching that their loved ones would return both safely, and victoriously.

* * *

&

* * *

Unfortunately, we all know how this goes, don't we?

Once again, I apologize for the massive heaps of trivial information I threw in regarding the weapons and armor being used here. I also apologize for altering yet another character to suite my own demented tastes, and by which I do not mean Praxis' OOCness, which will be explained later. If this causes anyone of you to for a vigilante mob to try and come hunt me down, all I request is a ten second head-start.

Should you decide to spare my life, the next chapter will obviously entail the attack upon the Metal Head Nest, and all that stuff. For that reason, expect to see blood, gore, severed body parts, and people being reduced to meaty giblets...you have been warned.

Thanks, and have a great day


	18. A Delta’s Honor, Part Two: “Storming the

(Walks out, completely transparent.)

Hello people, coming to you today from...beyond the grave. My congratulations to you, Paska, and your mastery of nuclear overkill, my remains are currently being dustbusted and placed into an urn, which will be ship to your home to place on your mantle as a trophy, and I extend my thanks for making my death so neigh instantaneous that I did not have time to feel it. (bows politely)

On another note, I apologize for taking so long to get this chapter out. First, the extended labor day weekend turned out not to be the break that I was hoping for. You see, someone recently bought the property next to where we live, and they hired a few surveyors who apparently up and decided that the boundaries and property markers that had been in place for the past quarter century were wrong, and that the drive way we used and the sixty odd bushes that my mother had planted over the years were apparently two and a half feet on his land. So we had to drop everything, rent a back hoe, and move it all in three days. On top of that, my computer managed to somehow delete the story once I was about halfway through it, so I had to start all over again.

But, enough about my problems.

To those of you who have been kind enough to review.

**Hybrid- **Glad you liked it, wasn't sure how well people would react to Jynx being in the Deltas, so its good to know that I'm not going to be strung up from a stout oak branch for sticking him in the military. (laughs nervously).

**Lunatic Pandora1- **Yeah, there weren't a whole lot of sabers in that game, but look on the bright side, can you imagine having to try and take on a fully functional General Grievous with a gun? (shudders). As far as D.J. being a berserker, that doesn't sound like a bad idea, and I think I know how to make that work, thank you.

**Paska- **Yes, I realize how much I've been taking from other games and books. It's my biggest flaw and one of the reasons why I really don't consider myself a very good author, as for the life of me I cannot come up with decent names and weapon ideas that don't wind up sounding like something out of a B-grade science fiction novel. That's why I've taken so much from Halo and whatnot for use in the elven military, I just couldn't think of anything original that would do them justice. I'm sorry if I've upset you by doing this. I really like your input and respect your opinion very highly. So I wish to very politely ask for your advice, what do you think I should do?

**Shakai- **Trust me, you'll be seeing more of the pyromaniac, both in this story, and in the game itself. As for the collection money, dear heavens how I hated that mission. Though I feel I should warn you not to try and kick Krew, you foot might get sucked into the copious amount of fat that he has and...well...you can probably use your imagination for the rest of it though. Don't worry about that flying zeppelin to much though, he'll get what's coming to him.

**Exardas- **I'm glad that you liked the last chapter, and that you think so highly of me. I managed to find time to review your DMC/HP crossover, and I hope you found the advice useful, as I've never been to sure on advising others. Still, though, I hope you like this chapter, and I wish you luck in your own writings.

**Light-Eco-Sage- **I'm glad that you liked the chapter, and rest assured, Jak will eventually get some sense knocked into him. I'm also happy with the progress that you're making on your own stories, and I'm anxious to see what happens. Hope that this chapter has enough gore and whatnot to keep you happy, let me know if it was, okay?

To those of you who read but did not review, I hope you found the work of this amateur to be worth your time, and that I have not inadvertently insulted someone in some fashion.

Plus, special thanks goes out to Evil Manic for his ideas regarding Flash-Bang grenades. And Farr2rich for a utility belt that will be used.

To the Lawyers: look, I think by now I have established the fact that I don't own jack-squat, so leave me alone.

That accomplished, here's the next chapter, and it's a doozy. Hope you find it worth your while.

* * *

&

* * *

A Delta's Honor, Part Two: "Storming the Beaches"

The wasteland rushed by as the drop ship zoomed towards its destination, mere feet from the ground. Within it, hanging on to the grips of their seats with one hand, were four brothers in arms, currently listening to a last minute, in flight briefing from their C.O., who had apparently been able to pull a few more strings to come along. From the relative safety of one of the larger ships, which would serve as a in the field general headquarters during the assault, they would be provided up to the minute information of the ongoing struggle between their K.G. comrades and their freakish adversaries.

"Finally, make certain that you have the Havocs planted properly, or the tunnel might not come down like we're hoping." Walon said, earning somber nods from all present, even though the Colonel couldn't see them.

After that, he went quiet, though the comm. line stayed open, leaving each Delta to his own thoughts. This was, without a doubt, the single most dangerous mission that the elite squadrons had ever embarked upon. After all, they were about to be dumped into the middle of hostile territory, complete cut off from assistance save for their uplink to Command, with the odds being somewhere in the area of thousands to one. Nevertheless, they were prepared, and as all veteran soldiers had, had stared Death in the face enough times to realize that there was indeed a very good possibility they would be coming home in a body bag, if at all.

Such thoughts were pushed aside, once the pilot leaned back around and announced their imminent arrival to their drop point. From behind his visor, Torn glanced to his brothers, and made a series of rapid hand gestures. While to the average person it may have appeared as though he had just had a bizarre sort of seizure, his squad mates were able to understand approximately five sentences worth of information from the signals. As per his orders, inter-squad comm. lines were checked, external speakers were switched off, and suppressors were added to their weapons.

Thirty seconds later, the drop-ship underwent a deceleration that would have thrown them out of their seats had they not been hanging on. Then, in an almost ominous fashion, the rear door opened, spilling sun light into the troop compartment. Before the pilot even had time to turn the ship around, the four grey armored soldiers had already planted their feet back on the miracle that was terra firma.

As their ride did a one eighty and sped back the way it came, Torn once again issued the complicated and intricate hand signal's that were their means of communicating amongst each other before enemy contact. True, they did possess their private comm. lines for speaking to each other, but this was still the preferred method. After all, one never knew when Murphy's Law could rear its ugly head and some system quirk or electronic bug might inadvertently carry what should have been a message to be heard only by the squad to the external speakers, resulting in every enemy within earshot suddenly realizing that they were not alone. This when combined with the fact that surprise was such a critical factor in success when operating in these small black ops style groups, called for strict adherence to certain rules.

'Oh Five, take point, and keep you're eyes open for any hostiles.' the squad leader signaled, before turning to his other two comrades. 'Twenty Eight, stay three yards to my six. Sixty Seven, same rules, now move!'

* * *

Some time passed, with no enemy contact for them, for which they were grateful. Still, this was the very heart of Metal Head territory, making it just a matter of time before their infantry and armor divisions started to engage the enemy. Therefore, it was imperative that they reach their target as quickly as they possibly could, and eliminate it.

So it came as a welcome relief when they finally reached the canyon that lead down to their target. As soon as they got close, Hunter dropped down to his belly, and began to slither forward, while the other squad members also made themselves prone. Slowly, and ever so carefully, the marksman crawled up behind a small boulder that was sticking up, and peeked around it. Chinning a button located within his helmet, he activated his macro-binoculars, and peered around.

His blood began to boil, burning in anticipation of the battle that was to come. Still, he did not raise his sniper rifle, and instead opted to make his way back towards his brothers, who had by now come up close around their leader.

'Well?' Torn inquired.

'Plenty of hostiles to go around.' Hunter signed, before going on to explain exactly what they were up against. 'Looks like a standard Metal Head guard formation, three Crab Heads, a mixture of about thirty or so Grunts and Drones, and seven Centurions.'

Torn remained where he was, pondering the best course of action. They wanted to be as quiet as they possibly could be, given the gravity of their assignment and the fact that since this was home base for the enemy, they could rest assured that they were outnumbered to the point where it wasn't even funny. Still, they also needed to move fast, and there was the chance that they didn't have any more of their kin stationed just at the tunnel entrance, and therefore a couple of grenades might be able to be used without alerting anyone else. However, for safety's sake, use of Ackerson's fuel rod cannon was effectively out of the question.

Finally, he reached a decision, and issued a series of rapid fired hand gestures. Nodding in understanding, his brothers went to carry out their orders. Once again crawling, but spreading themselves out in the process, the four Deltas lined themselves up along different areas of the canyons edge. As instructed, Jynx put away his DC-17s, and withdrew a plasmite grenade. Looking over to Torn, he awaited his signal to use them. That signal came once Hunter had shouldered his rifle, and Ackerson had his own grenade ready. The pyromaniac then activated the tiny explosive, which was on a delayed fuse, meaning it would not activate until it came to a stop, before chucking it down into the ravine behind him.

As had been planned, it landed next to a group of Metal Heads, Grunts to be more specific. Curiosity getting the better of them, they moved over and surrounded the strange device. Now, it was well known that Grunts were not to be noted for their intelligence, as they and their lesser Drone brethrens' predominant purpose in life was to swarm over the enemy through sheer numbers. Thus, when the grenade suddenly ignited, and began to burn with a silent, blue flame, they simply stared at each other, not knowing what to do.

The grenade exploded, killing all within the group, as did the other one tossed by Ackerson, which had landed at the other end of the groups. The result was for the two explosions to eliminate those not standing around the rough 'center' of the patrol, which had by now become confused, and were very quickly about to become corpses.

With coordination honed by years of working together and countless firefights, the squad went to work. Hunter was fast enough to drop the Crab Heads with his sniping skills before they were even truly aware of what was going on, while Torn and Ackerson shouldered their assault rifles and concentrated on wiping out the centurions. Jynx, meanwhile, had redrawn a single submachine gun, to allow for better accuracy at the range he was currently at, and began to target the lesser foes, who would fall more easily to large bursts of fire not necessarily directed to a single area.

In less than half a minute, all were dead, or currently thrashing about in their death throes. Once again, Torn flashed out the signals, and the squadron complied.

All Deltas went into battle with a harness and repelling equipment, for instances just such as these. And now, that bit of hardware was broken out, with reel being secured to the canyon's upper surface, while the harness was quickly fastened around their waists, much as a belt would be.

That accomplished, the four brothers quickly began to repel themselves down the wall of the ravine, moving as fast as they could without compromising safety, which was a rather fine line indeed, as one never knew if more enemies might just happen upon them while they were in the middle of this. Needless to say, such an event was quite high on their lists of things to try and avoid, as they would literally be like fish in a barrel.

Fortunately, no hazards of that nature befell them, nor did anyone snag their line. Matter of fact, things happened as smoothly as they did in a training holo-vid, which was a rarity out in the real world. As soon as their feet touched the ground, the squad liberated themselves from their repelling harnesses, and resumed their formation, heading towards their target, which could be seen approximately half a click down the canyon.

Abruptly, their comm. units crackled and Walon's voice was suddenly heard in their helmets.

"Better step it up, boys." he growled. "First division's already wading through these guys, while Second and Third are initiating first contact. It's only a matter of time before they start sending their forces up through those tunnels, so step on it or you're going to be facing an army of the blasted things."

The comm. line then switched off. No words were exchanged amongst the grey armored warriors, as all of them promptly began to double time it towards their goal.

According to the readouts provided during their briefing, the optimal place for the charges to be set in order to ensure a cave in would begin approximately three hundred yards inside of the tunnels, and finish at about four hundred, set on both sides of the cavern at twenty yard intervals, with two extra left over in case something went awry. This meant twelve hundred feet of pitch blackness, thankfully a non-issue due to the night vision enchantments on their helmets, and more importantly, potentially twelve hundred feet of pissed off Metal Heads to wade through.

Two minutes later, darkness enveloped the squad, and the ground sloped downward, as if it were a path leading into the depths of Hell itself. Almost simultaneously, the four brothers switched to night vision, and the world became a harsh contrast of varying shades of green and black.

Thus far the tunnel was deserted, how long it would remain so, was yet to be seen.

Knowing that every second counted, they pressed forward until reaching the farthest set up point. Hastily, Jynx holstered his twin submachine guns, and withdrew a Havoc, setting it along the cavern wall, hurriedly running through the priming process. Approximately twenty seconds later, he was finished, which meant one down, nine to go.

The team's demo expert quickly hot-footed it across the cavern to the other side whereupon he repeated the process, and armed a second charge. From there, they backpedaled to the next location, their eyes and ears constantly on the look out for potential threats.

Their alertness would serve them well, as it was after Sixty Seven had placed charge number four, that Hunter felt a vibration in the ground, and quickly brought up his sniper rifle, staring down the optical scope.

"Slag." he muttered, breaking the radio silence. "Heads up, squad, here they come."

Jynx uttered a curse, before dashing back to plant the fifth Havoc, while his three squad mates tucked themselves as far back into some recesses in the walls as they could. Rule number eight: always make use of any and all cover that is available.

The tunnel had a bend in it about a thousand feet from where they were, and it was around that that the first ranks of the enemy charged. As per usual, it was Grunts and Drones bringing up the front, playing their ever vital roll of cannon fodder. It was a role that they were to quickly fulfill, as several dropped from headshots, courtesy of Oh Five's incredible marksman skills.

Intellectually challenged as the average Grunt or Drone was, they were quick to realize that they were not alone, which was to say nothing of the Centurions or their Crab Head commanders, who quickly activated and raised their energy shields or began to bark out orders and return fire, respectively.

The swarming hordes of enemies were quickly within seven hundred feet of the four Deltas, which brought them into range of Torn and Ackerson's BR55's, and soon their muffled coughs could be heard joining the sound of Hunter's suppressed sniper rifle. Looking out over the vast numbers of enemies, Torn was very glad that their utility belts allowed for them to carry such a large amount of ammunition, as they were likely going to need ever last shot.

Meanwhile, Jynx, coincidentally enough, was on Havoc number seven, working as fast as he could to set up the charges while at the same time, not do something that would get the whole squad killed.

However, the encroaching tide of enemies would do that readily enough, as they got to within five hundred feet of the four brothers despite the fire being thrown at them. Something had to be done to push them back, or the mission would be a failure. Fortunately, that something came with one expertly placed order.

"Hunter, Ackerson!" Torn shouted over their private comm. line, and getting his assenting responses just as the marksman blew the head off of a Crab Head, and Twenty Eight dropped a pair of Drones. "Engage gamma maneuver!"

"Affirmative!" Hunter growled back, shifting his rifle over to his left hand while drawing and activating strange looking grenade, before hurling it, and another immediately thereafter, at the incoming horde.

The two grenades bounced and rolled down the incline of the tunnel, passing by the pack leaders, who apparently thought nothing of it, seeing as how it had not ignited in the strange blue flame that they normally did. However, the Metal Head commanders quickly regretted their mutual decision once a blinding flash and deafening roar filled the cavern. As the flash bangs left them sightless and disoriented, Ackerson came in to fill his role in the maneuver. Leaning out from behind his cover, the heavy weapons specialist brought his massive fuel rod cannon to bear upon the now very much helpless Metal Heads.

He fired once, twice, three times, and like green comets, the shots streaked towards their foes. The tunnel that they were in was fairly narrow, relatively speaking, and thus, forced the Delta's foes to come at them in tightly compacted groups for the most part, something that made what was about to happen all the more devastating.

The ground shook, and a the whole cavern vibrated slightly as the anti-armor rounds hit home upon their targets, slaughtering dozens and effectively throwing the remainder of the Metal Head front lines into a chaos driven panic. Torn, Hunter, and Ackerson were quick to capitalize on this, backpedaling as Jynx went to place the final two explosives. Unfortunately, the Crab Heads were just as quick to get their troops back under control, and once more send them at these elves who had dared to try and breach their home.

"Jynx," Torn growled over the comm. line as he sent a few more enemies packing, "step on it or these things are going to be running all over us!"

"Listen, leader-man, don't rush me!" the pyromaniac shot back. "This is delicate work here, if I screw this up, we're all going to get blasted back to our component atoms!"

"Could you perhaps be whining a little less loudly?" Hunter inquired in an irritated tone, as he sniped yet another Crab Head. "You are making it quite difficult for me to keep track of my kills."

"Concentrate on the mission, Oh Five, not your kill count." Ackerson said, getting a 'bah' in response from the marksman.

The enemy was close now, much too close for any of their likings. In a desperate move, Torn shouted an order for Twenty Eight to follow his lead, and ignoring vicious return fire, he leaned out, cocked the M-404 launcher on his rifle, and pulled the trigger. The launcher instantly spat out a grenade, sending it directly into the center formation. Ackerson's own launcher also belched out its explosive payload, and both fired again, once more putting them into a temporary confusion. Another Crab Head quickly tried to assume control of the situation, but was, much to the elves' relief, quickly relieved of its command, as a high velocity bolt of energy applied to the head had an annoying tendency to do such a thing.

As they reformed their lines again, though, some unexpected help joined in. As they charged them, several suppressed bursts of gunfire came from behind the three Deltas. Torn looked back over his shoulder to see Jynx coming in to get some of the action, firing his twin submachine guns in quick, rapid bursts, and chewing through the rank and file of the enemy.

Knowing that the demolitions expert would have only joined in the firefight if he had completed his primary mission, Torn issued a fall back command, and the squad made a prompt break for it, ignoring the shots that hit home on them, letting their armor do what it was made to do, and leaving a few nasty surprises behind the form of yet more delayed fuse grenades.

They charged towards the light of the surface, beckoning to them like a beacon. Praying that they were far enough away, Torn looked over his shoulder to Jynx, and issued the one command that would make or break their mission.

"Blow em!" he shouted, and got a nod from the pyromaniac in return.

"One super-sized explosion with a side order of fried Metal Head, coming right up, Boss." Delta Sixty Seven replied, holstering a DC-17 and brining out his detonator.

The demolitions expert then held down the trigger on the device, and depressed the two thumb buttons, sending a burst transmission to the M9-DPs' transceivers. The end result was a fireball of near apocalyptic proportions. In fact, the blast was so great, that even from the distance they were at, the Deltas could feel it, and the shockwave nearly drove them to their knees.

However, realizing that stumbling and falling would mean certain death, possibly at the hands of the Metal Heads practically nipping at their heels, if not from the fact that the sky was falling, they forced themselves to remain upright, and hauling tail out of the tunnel. Fortunately, for the moment, most of the Metal Heads seemed more concerned about saving their own lives than slaying the intruders that were currently a few steps ahead of them.

They passed the boundary of the cavern, leading them out to the surface and relative safety. Not hesitating an instant, Torn ordered his brothers into action, and they brought their weapons about on the enemies that had managed to escape being crushed.

They were still surprised from the devastation that the Deltas had unleashed upon their kin, and weren't expecting this fierce resistance so quickly. Caught out in the open and with their guard down, they never stood a chance, and most fell where they stood.

Their foes destroyed and their first job done, the four elite warriors immediately headed back for their repelling equipment.

* * *

"Delta Forty Two reporting in, mission accomplished." Torn said over the comm. channel, telling the Colonel of his squad's success.

"Good job, Lieutenant Commander," Walon acknowledged, before going on to give them their next orders, "now, we need you to rendezvous with the Third Infantry Division. They're about seven clicks north, northwest of your current position, bearing three five oh."

"Understood, Sir." the squad leader growled.

Moments later, the group was sprinting across the wasteland, making a beeline for their crimson armored brothers in arms.

* * *

Ten Minutes, and two kilometers later, the squad got buzzed by their superiors again. Unfortunately this time, it was not for a proverbial slap on the back or anything of that nature.

"Delta Forty Two?" the Colonel inquired, his voice laced with no small amount of worry.

"Transmission acknowledged, Command." Torn responded, not breaking his stride.

"I'm afraid there has been a complication, solider." his superior said, before elaborating on what he meant. "Infantry scouts have reported that the enemy is wheeling out the big guns, Torresques are on the move."

"Please tell me I heard that wrong." Jynx muttered, attaching a muffled prayer to the end of his plea.

"For once, we agree on something." Ackerson concurred, paling underneath his helmet.

"Command," Torn growled, "was that last transmission a comm. malfunction?"

"Unfortunately, no, Lieutenant Commander." Colonel Vau said, his voice weary all of a sudden. "Set your macro-binoculars to maximum zoom and look about twenty seven degrees to your right, and you'll see them."

The whole squad did as instructed, and the next few seconds were filled with a colorful and diverse variety of language. It was understandable, after all, considering what was currently stomping its way towards Division Three.

A Torresque was the largest variety of Metal Head ever seen on the battle field, one many had reason to believe was even larger than their mysterious leader. Standing about equal with the average six story building, and weighing the better part of ten tons, most of it a fiendish combination of muscle and exoskeletal patches rivaling a Scorpion in thickness, it was like something out of a child's nightmare, especially when one added in the gaping maw full of fangs and talons larger than most of the elven population. They were capable of walking on either all four legs or rearing up on two, whatever fancy took them, and their tails were strong enough to overturn assault tanks. And then, to make such a beast an even more of lethal killing machine, they went into battle with a huge, howitzer style cannon on their backs, which was fired through some unknown means and capable of laying waste to rank and file K.G.

Now, take such a monster, and multiply by four, and you will be able to understand why the Deltas reacted as they did.

"I know how you feel, boys, but we need you to take care of those things." Walon said, knowing full well that he could very well be sending them straight to their deaths.

"Sir," Ackerson responded, his eyes glued to the four behemoths moving at an alarming pace, "with all due respect, that's a job better suited for a Scorpion tank."

"Yeah," Jynx piped up, mentally slapping himself for forgetting about that, "where the hell's the Seventh Battalion? Third Division should have more than enough armor support to take care of those things!"

"There's been a landslide since our latest reconnaissance sweep, and the path was too narrow for the M808's to get through, they had to take a detour and they're going to link up later. And air supports currently tangled up with their flyers, so not much of a chance in that department." The Colonel informed.

"Shouldn't they have their own anti-armor weapons?" Hunter inquired, utterly baffled.

"No, they don't." Walon muttered with a disgusted sigh, before spitting out another sentence like it was poison. "A certain local politician managed to somehow convince Damas that it would be unnecessary, given the presence of the tanks, and thus to equip them as such would be a waste."

"If, by some miracle, we live through this," a certain pyromaniac exclaimed, "Count Veger has some Molotov Cocktails with his name on em!" venting his frustrations on the one member of the Cabinet who could have possibly suggested such an idea.

"Bellyaching is not going to help us." Torn said, though he very much agreed with his squad-mate. "Alright, Deltas, lets move! Ackerson, have that fuel rod cannon cocked and locked by the time we get within range!"

"Affirmative," he responded, before adding in a much quieter tone, "though I don't know how in the hell I am going to take down four of those things with ten shots."

"Don't worry too much about that, Twenty Eight," Walon's voice crackled again. "Eighty Five and his squad have also completed their primary objective and are moving from the opposite direction, so you've got one ammo pack for each one."

Torn gave a mental sigh of relief, knowing that Anton and his men were alright, as the inter-squad comm. frequency lacked the power to communicate over the range in which the Deltas were spread out.

"Normally, doesn't performing the ole hammer and anvil trick require for both hammer and anvil to be bigger than what's about to be hit?" Jynx remarked aloud, not expecting, or receiving an answer.

Moving faster than they ever had before, knowing the massacre that would occur if those beasts plowed into the front lines of the Third Division, they sped across the plateau they were on, Ackerson ripping out his old power pack and slamming a new one into the massive anti-armor cannon.

At last, another fifteen minutes of record setting sprinting later, they were within half a click of the Torresques, who were currently perched on tops of either side of the canyon that the Third Division was heading down, and they knew, almost ready to open fire. Instantly, Delta Twenty Eight hit his knees, and lines up his first shot, targeting the closest behemoth. However, he didn't fire right away, his mind thinking back to the training vids they'd been shown in their earliest briefings in boot camp. He recalled the ones he'd seen that showed Scorpion tanks bringing those monsters down, remembered every twitch, every reflexive move they made when in pain, trying to calculate the way it was most likely to shift once the first shot, and its subsequent hit home. After all, Ackerson was quite well aware of the fact that what he was about to do had probably never been done before, pitting one soldier, against one of those gigantic Metal Heads. They'd been taken down by weapons like the one he was holding before, quite obviously, but there had always been significantly more elves present during such maneuvers.

Pushing his doubts aside, the heavy weapons specialist squeezed the trigger of the cannon. The first shot flew out of the barrel, and he quickly adjusted his aim and fired again, repeating the process until he had depleted his energy pack. And, at almost the same time, Torn beheld another set of comets shoot up, some distance off. Zooming in, he saw Anton's squad also launching a salvo at their own targets.

A roar that shook the very earth he stood on caused him to direct his attention back towards the Torresques that he was closest to. He was just in time to watch the first of the behemoths rear back as Ackerson's initial shot connected with the side of its head, putting it squarely in line with the second. Once more, Delta Twenty Eight had displayed his incredible abilities, as all five hit dead on. With a scream that was more like a whimper, it collapsed, Death taking it.

Unfortunately, the brutes weren't exactly stupid, and its companion turned its attention from the advancing elven army, to direct its attention towards a more immediate threat. There was a dark glow near the end of its howitzer, and Torn's eyes hit dinner plate size as he realized what was happening.

"Scatter!" he exclaimed, running away from where he was.

It was a move that the squad didn't need to be ordered to do twice. At the same time that the massive energy mortar was launched, he could hear Anton bellowing out a similar command to his own squad. However, he had bigger things to worry about at the moment, such as an energy shot the size of a zoomer coming down from above. Fortunately, the four brothers had managed to get sufficiently far enough away from the blast to suffer from nothing more than a sudden temperature rise of the surrounding area.

It was then, that their luck finally seemed to abandon them. A scream echoed over his comm., and from the communications that followed, it seemed as though Anton's own heavy weapons specialist, Samantha, had been attempting to reload her cannon when one of the surviving Torresques had lashed out with its tail. The only bit of solace that Torn could take from that bit of news, was that her death would have been quick, as the force behind such a swing would have crushed her body instantly, armor or not. Even worse, though, this left Anton and his two remaining squad members with anti-infantry weapons to try and bring the massive Metal Head down.

That already bad situation was then complicated by the emergence of the first ranks of the Third Division from around a bend in the ravine they were moving through. Noticing this, the Torresque closest to him roared, and another shot from its mortar streaked through the air. Hardly able to miss the mortar, the first lines of the rank and file infantry picked up their pace to a flat out sprint, a desperate bid to get past the blast radius before it hit. Some were successful in that endeavor, others were not, and the four brothers watched as half of a company, almost a hundred soldiers, were caught in the ensuing explosion, dead before they even had time to cry out.

Then, the massive behemoth did something that would have seemed impossible, given its tremendous size. It jumped from its position, firing off another blast as it did so, and landed in front of the elven columns.

His comm. crackled again, and Ackerson announced he had successfully reloaded, indicating that the entire situation, which seemed to have lasted for hours, was, in fact, merely seconds in duration. He looked back over to where Anton and his now sole remaining comrade were still pestering their Torresque with small arms fire, succeeding in doing little more than pissing it off, and then to the Krimzon Guard, who were about to be massacred by the other one.

It was then, that he made the hardest call of his life.

"Ackerson, target the one closest to us." he said, another death cry coming over the comm., leaving Anton by himself.

Wordlessly, Delta Twenty Eight hefted his anti-armor cannon, and ran over to his commander, and after a few more seconds, had launched his salvo at his target. Once again, all five hit, and the beast went down with a thunderous crash.

That threat averted, the four brothers zoomed in on the other Torresque, and watched as Anton barely managed to leap over its tail as it spun around, trying to crush this proverbial fly that was stinging it. It was a hopeless struggle, doomed to end in only one way, and Anton apparently knew it. His weapon empty, he tossed it aside, and drew out something else, an object that none of them could make out from this distance. For a few seconds he fiddled with it, before suddenly charging straight at the enormous Metal Head.

It appeared somewhat confused for a few seconds, before it snapped its head down, apparently deciding to devour this elf while it still lived. It was in for a nasty surprise.

For it was at that time, that Jynx realized what Anton had been doing, and with an expletive, announced his epiphany with the rest of the squad. At almost the same time, a blinding flash forced them to cover their eyes, as the two spare Havocs that the Delta had been carrying went off, effectively cremating him, and all but tearing the head off of the Torresque.

Stunned, unable to believe that four members of their brotherhood had just left this coil, they just stood where they were. Finally, a tear making its way down his face, thankfully hidden by his helmet, Torn brought his hand to his forehead, and offered a salute to his fallen friends.

* * *

"That's the reason everything's like it is today." the Underground commander muttered, his voice filled with pain, his eyes mirroring it. "I made that call, and set everything in motion."

"How so?" Jak inquired, still not fully understanding.

"Because," Torn answered, looking him in the eyes, "Praxis was leading the Third Division that day, from the front. His command group would have been among the first to get slaughtered by that Torresque."

The Ex-Delta then laughed bitterly, before continuing his self abuse.

"So, the next time you're wandering around the city, look around at the nightmare that it's become." he paused, lowering his head, and his voice becoming much softer. "A nightmare, that I, Lieutenant-Commander Daniel R. Torn, single handedly authored."

For a moment, Jak was stunned, unable to comprehend what Torn was telling him. Then, once his brain started its primary functions again, he was left with a dilemma on his hand. Some darker half of himself wanted to try and strangle the elf standing ten feet away from him. Fortunately for them both, another choice came to be, from a most unlikely source.

**_Couldn't…have known…_**

Again, somewhat startled over the massive leaps that his inner demon was taking in its cognitive capabilities, Jak found himself at a loss. In the end, though, he looked at Torn, and echoed the thoughts of the creature within himself.

"Why do you blame yourself? You couldn't have possibly known what was going to happen." the dark elf remarked, wondering how Torn had arrived at such an illogical conclusion now that he thought about it.

"That's easy for you to say." Torn replied, his voice almost breaking, and pain seemed written on his every feature.

It was then, that Jak finally seemed to understand just what it meant for Torn to open up to him like this. This was a memory that hurt the tattooed solider every time that he thought about it, and so, to tell it to someone like himself…well…it was, perhaps a sign of trust?

Such were his thoughts as the Ex-Delta began to tell his tale once more.

* * *

Repelling down to where the Third Division was, the four brothers quickly scooted about through the ranks, seeking out the commander of the elven forces. While searching, they noted the wounds of the Krimzon Guard members, and realized that even before they had reached this point, that there had been some rather intense fighting going on. Finally, the grey armored warriors were directed to the front of the group, where they found General Praxis at the head of the formation. Putting aside the agony he felt over the loss of his friends, Delta Forty Two ran up beside the General and saluted him while still running, and switching on his external speakers at the same time.

"Delta Forty Two and squad reporting in, Sir." he said, his tone respectful.

"Glad to have you with us." Praxis replied, offering him a grim smile.

"Oh, great, more of those wind up toy soldiers." came a snide voice to the side, and Torn beheld a red haired elf, captains bars on his shoulders marking his rank.

"Watch what you say, Errol," Praxis said, his tone grim, "those 'windup toys' just saved us from a rather nasty death, so show some respect."

"Yes sir." the captain answered, considerably more subdued.

Suddenly, Praxis' helmet comm. crackled, and a message only he could hear came over it. A swear came from the General indicating that whatever he had heard, it hadn't been good.

"What's wrong, Sir?" Torn inquired as he checked his rifle, opting for a reload during this brief lull in the action.

"It seems as though we lucked out and hit their weaker flank." the other elf growled, his grip on his rifle tightening. "Damas and his own men have run into some extremely entrenched enemy positions, and they're just refusing to give ground. Second Divisions doing even worse, even with their armor and air support doing their jobs, the division is still down to about fifty percent manpower."

The Delta uttered a quiet swear, knowing that was definitely not good, not this early in the game. Unfortunately, he couldn't dwell on that, or the possible reasons behind it, as a buzzing sound reached his ears, and he looked up just as aerial units swooped down and opened fire on the elven formations.

"Wasps, eleven o'clock high!" Ackerson shouted as the first shots began to connect.

Wasps were the smaller flying Metal Heads, and they couldn't take much as far as abuse was concerned. However, they compensated for their lack of armor with their agility, being able to change directions in mid-air almost instantly, and they were also deadly airborne marksmen. One of them fired a wrist mounted blaster, and a K.G. next to Jynx dropped, clawing at a face that was now longer there. Instantly, the division opened fire, and soon the Wasps were quite literally dropping like flies. After all, no matter how agile one is, it is difficult to avoid being shot when the blaster fire being thrown at you is practically thick enough to walk on.

Unfortunately, more of them came, and they were soon backed up by Guardians, the larger of the two flying species. These, vaguely resembled a kind of scarab beetle, and were the exact opposite of the more diminutive Wasps. Large, lumbering, and noted for being able to survive a direct hit from a Stinger missile, they were the Metal Heads aerial bombardment platforms, and were more biologically oriented than most of the other species, relying on a thick exoskeleton for protection, and somehow being able to spit out Dark Eco at extraordinarily high pressure, absolutely fatal to about ninety nine point nine percent of the elven population.

Their lethal 'breath weapon' was soon brought to bear upon the members of the Third Division, raining down from the skies and searing through flesh and armor alike. Within seconds, elves were screaming out their lives, dying in a fashion most would not have wished upon their worst enemies. Two of the large beasts came down low, ignoring the fire from rifles and sub machine guns as they strafed the elves, slaying dozens. In desperation, Torn tracked one of them, cocked his M-404 and fire a grenade.

The airborne explosive connected with the side of one of the Guardians, catching it in the neck right between a pair of armor plates, and for once, a small arms weapon managed to inflict some rather serious damage to the beast, compounded when Hunter managed to shoot out its eye moments later. Shortly thereafter, the massive amount of retaliatory fire finally managed to bring the Guardian down, but not before it took more elves to the grave with it.

Two down, dozens to go. Time seemed to slow for the Deltas, each second turning into hours once again. They could here the cries of the dying, hear Praxis screaming into his boom mike for air support to come bail them out, and collective swears from hundreds of elves as they tried to dispatch their attackers.

It was then that it happened. A Guardian landed in front of the General, who was still raging about their lack of top cover. He saw it inhale, beginning to unleash its breath weapon. While his squad scattered, he stood his ground, and leveled his own BR55. Cocking the barrel underneath it, he fired a plasmite grenade that connected directly between the massive beast's eyes. Torn too, launched the last grenade in his magazine, and went to reload, before he realized, to his horror, that the Guardian was still alive, if just barely. With its dying breath, it spat a stream of Dark Eco. Only then, did General Praxis leap to one side, but not soon enough to clear the shot in its entirety. Part of the stream brushed him along side his helmet, and ate through it in an instant.

Torn could only watch silently, as part of his superior's face melted and burned as the raw Dark Eco did its deadly work. Screaming in agony, Praxis ripped his helmet off, an act that no doubt saved his life, as it took most of the toxic substance with it. Within a few moments of him doing that, the General's protective head gear had been reduced to a puddle of dissolved and hissing metal.

Despite the obvious agony that he must have been in, Praxis growled, and rose to his fee, his teeth clinched in an attempt to will away the pain from the garish wound. Still, he once again gripped his rifle, and called for his men to press forward and engage their attackers. Very quickly, the Krimzon Guard rallied around their battered, now half blind, but still kicking leader, and a hail of blaster fire was quickly thrown into the air. The General himself quickly blew a quartet of Wasps out of the sky before they eve knew they were being targeted.

Even above that, a most welcome sound could soon be heard. A metallic shrieking filled the air, and the Delta looked up to watch as nearly a hundred Hellcat cruisers suddenly dived out of the clouds and down onto the Wasps and Guardians, their quad lasers and other weapons tracking the many hostiles.

"Took em long enough." Praxis growled, gunning down another airborne adversary, before calling for the elves to press the attack regardless of their losses.

The men hurried to obey their General's order, charging forward while the Hellcats kept the fliers tangled up. Still, even the mighty K.G. gunships were not more than a match for the Guardians, who quickly began to redirect their fire at the cruisers, and several were quickly shot down, trailing smoke and fire. A couple of them, in fact, came down on top of the infantry that they were supposed to be protecting.

"If they gotta crash, could they kindly not do it near us?" Jynx exclaimed, pulling out a piece of shrapnel that had penetrated his Katarn armor, coming within a hairsbreadth of gutting him.

* * *

"So, what happened next?" Jak inquired, cocking his head slightly.

"Things went from bad to worse." Torn replied, shaking his head. "We kept pushing forward, despite our losses, even when some of the more common Metal Heads started literally popping out of the ground." The Ex-Delta then paused, once again thinking of how best to say what came next. "In the end, though, it didn't really matter. We'd almost reached our rendezvous point with the First Division, when Damas gave a fallback order."

"He gave the order to retreat?" the dark elf said, somewhat puzzled.

"Third Division had it easy, and even we were taking a pounding. The Second got swarmed and the K.G. there torn apart, armor and air support right along with em. When it was all over, they were able to fallback with about a quarter of their original numbers."

"What caused that?" Jak said, his curiosity growing, though a growing sense of dread had lead him to already reach a fairly good conclusion.

"We found out later," Torn said, his voice soft and his eyes glistening, "that the Delta squad sent to seal off the tunnel in that area got overrun before they could finish the job. They blew what they had set up while they were still inside, but just managed a partial cave in. In one mission, half of my brothers and sisters fell. But that wasn't even the worse thing to happen that day."

* * *

The four brothers were bringing up the rear of the retreat, accompanying General Praxis. It had been a grueling withdrawal, the Metal Heads coming out of nowhere at all times, trying to cut them off, trying to sow panic and chaos through the ranks. Generally speaking, they were doing their jobs quite well, and officers were finding it difficult to prevent the retreat from turning into a full fledged route. Finally, after twelve kilometers of sheer hell, they reached the central branch of the canyons, where the infantry regulars had originally spilt up to try and take the Metal Head Nest.

Torn was aghast, and even Ackerson seemed to slump slightly, as he looked upon the battered and retreating elven army. Those few not wounded tried to help those who had been, carrying those who had had limbs shot off, applying pressure to injuries in a desperate bid to save a comrade or a friend from bleeding out, and a host of other things. Scorpions, some so damaged that it was a wonder they were still operational, flowed past, their guns trained on the rear sky. And, from a distance, they could still hear the sounds of quad blasters as the pilots of the Hellcats gave their blood in an attempt to cover the retreat.

Never before had the four Deltas seen such carnage and destruction, and they spent a few moments realizing the sheer gravity of the catastrophe that had occurred there that day.

Yet, even amongst all that death and sorrow, hope still lived.

A Guardian had managed to break free of the Hellcat's defensive ring, and came flying in, too low for the Scorpions to risk shooting at it. It was soon followed, if the bestial cries that echoed through the ravines were any indication, buy lesser Metal Heads. However, as soldiers ran and scattered in an attempt to get out of the way, one stood his ground. Clad in strange, obsidian armor that was centuries old, but stronger than anything ever made by elven hands, was Damas.

The King of Haven City stood defiant before the onrushing tide, his blade out and held as if it were a dagger. As the Guardian closed in on him, he brought up his left hand, and clinched it into a fist. An instant later, a yellowish aura surrounded it, and he extended his hand, unleashing an energy beam of the same color. Not anticipating this, the Guardian plowed straight into it, and a second later, its headless corpse tumbled to the ground. At the same time, several Drones rushed at him, and the Channeler abruptly exploded into action.

He leaped over the first one as it passed under him, Kitetsu decapitating it in a single well placed swing. As he landed, the King once again struck out, and the second one suffered the same fate as its compatriot. The third came in, and Damas gave the dark katana a deft spin, removing its head as well.

Not pausing an instant as the General and the Deltas ran up to him, he Channeled another energy ball, and threw it straight into the ranks of the approaching enemy. It exploded, taking almost a score of them down, and at the same time, throwing his blade at a Grunt that had gotten too close to the retreat for his liking. As the blast cleared, a trio of Hellcats suddenly came down from above, and their pilots switched them into hover mode, before unloading into the canyon with everything they had, their large cannons chewing a bloody swath through the enemy. At the same time, several of the Scorpions did an about face, scattering the infantry in the process, and wheeled themselves back around to also provide support.

At last, Damas turned, and immediately did a double take at the appearance of his brother in law.

"Geoffrey, what the hell happened to you?" he exclaimed, his eyes roaming over the grisly wounds.

"Guardian tried to blow me a kiss." was the General's growled reply.

"Get to the rear and get a medic on that!" the King ordered, as another squadron of Deltas, to Torn's relief rushed up.

"Your orders, sir?" Delta Sixteen, 1st Lieutenant Mendoza inquired, snapping to a salute.

"Escort General Praxis to the front of the retreat, and make sure he gets that wound treated." Damas replied, his tone calm, despite the chaos and destruction of the moment, compounded when one of the Scorpions suddenly blew up.

"It's not safe here, Damas," Praxis said, his voice urgent.

"You're right." The King remarked, and barked a few orders into the boom mike that he had attached to his helmet, which was the only piece of "modern" equipment on his outfit, before heading over to the corpse of the Grunt he had impaled.

The creature had lived just long enough to pull the katana out of itself, and Damas stuck his foot underneath it, before using said appendage to launch the blade into the air, whereupon he promptly grabbed it.

"Get out of here, Geoffrey." Damas said, and there was something in the monarch's voice that put them all on edge.

"After you." was the General's reply.

"Not this time, old friend." Damas said, shaking his head.

"Damas, what the hell are you on about?" Praxis asked, a sudden uneasiness in his voice.

"The drop ships are going to need time to load up the survivors and stabilize the wounded for evac…I plan on buying that time." The King said, watching as yet another scorpion was destroyed, and a Hellcat's repulsor lifts failed.

"If time is what we need then order a few more Scorpions and gunships to the front." the General said, gesturing to the retreating columns behind them.

"Geoff," the ruler replied, his tone somber, "I called for this attack, and more than half of those that came here a few hours ago are now dead because of me." He abruptly whirled around, putting his finger into the General's chest. "No one else is dying because of my mistake."

"Then let me and the Deltas remain behind!" General Praxis pleaded. "Don't throw your life away like this, Damas!"

"I'm sorry, old friend, but you won't be able to hold them off…I can." the King said, placing his hand on Praxis' shoulder.

"I'm not leaving you out here to die!" Praxis began.

Before he could say any more, though, Damas snapped Kitetsu up, and bashed him upside the temple with the hilt of the blade. Caught unprepared, the General crumpled to the ground unconscious.

"Get the General to the medics." Damas said, repeating his previous order. Immediately, Hunter knelt down and threw the elf over his shoulder, and reluctantly began to make a run for the evac point. The others hesitated, looking at their King, the one they had sworn to defend with their lives.

"Move it, soldiers!" he ordered, gesturing to the rear.

"But, Sir…" Torn began, unable to just leave the monarch alone in this hell.

There was an explosion, and the last of the Hellcats went down. This left just two Scorpions to defend against the onrushing tides of darkness. They were going to die, those elves piloting the assault tanks, and they knew it. Still, they knew that every second counted at a time like this, and they went to their deaths willingly, died knowing that others would live because of their sacrifice.

"You have your orders, Delta." Damas growled.

Helpless except to obey the chain of command, the Deltas began to follow Hunter back to where this whole disaster had begun. However, as he turned, Torn felt a hand on his shoulder, and looking back, saw Damas.

"Just a moment, Lieutenant Commander." He said, before reaching around his neck, and snapping off the amulet that he had on. "Make sure my son gets that, understand me?"

The squadron leader nodded mutely, before willing himself to turn around and run to catch back up to his remaining comrades.

Damas, meanwhile, reached down to a belt that he had strung around his waist that contained several canisters that almost looked like ammunition pouches. He found the one he wanted and pushed a button on the top, causing a vial of Blue Eco to fall into his other hand. Not hesitating a moment, he crushed it, and felt his body absorb the substance.

He was a blur as he moved, running over to one of the cliff faces, and jumping back and forth amongst the outcroppings until he reached the top, and turned around in time to watch the last two tanks go up in smoke. Saluting the bodies of the elves that had died to save their brothers and sisters, he then got several containers of Yellow Eco from his belt, and assimilated them into himself.

As the Metal Heads began their charge towards the fleeing elven forces, the King focused deep within himself, and concentrated. He felt the energy gathering itself between his palms, and he soon unleashed a devastating ray of energy into the heart of their ranks. This caught their attention, and they finally seemed to realize the nature of this strange foe. Instantly, Crab Heads began to bark out orders, and the lesser Metal Heads threw themselves at the cliff below him, sinking their talons in and trying to climb.

This was what Damas had been counting on. Everyone knew of the strange vendetta that Metals Heads had towards Channelers. No one really knew why, but most attributed it to that prophesy. The King had never put much faith in that, and had always believed that the unusual heritage of Channelers was what marked them for death. Regardless of the reason behind their hatred towards them, the Metals Heads made some rapid priority rearrangements, and seemed content to let the shattered remnant of the elven attack force retreat back to Haven. All that mattered to them, was slaughtering this freak.

Retreating down the canyon, Torn looked back, and saw flashes of energy. Knowing what would happen in a few minutes, regardless of the King's skill, he had to force himself to hold back a scream of frustration and rage, as he and his brothers fled this Hell that they had marched into.

* * *

&

* * *

Okay, hope that chapter was good enough to merit posting, and that I didn't miss anything vital when I was proofreading.

I'll try to get the last part of the trilogy posted next week, and after that things are going to shift back to Jak and company.

For now, though, please let me know what you thought of the chapter, be it a flame, criticism, idea, or simply a comment.

Thanks for your time, and have a great day, all of you.


	19. A Delta's Honor, Part Three, Finest Hour

Hello people, hope you're having a great day, and that most of you are enjoying your time off from that terror know only as the public school system. Think I managed to get this chapter out in neigh-record time, and hopefully by doing so I haven't diminished the quality of it at all.

Anyway, to those of you kind enough to review.

**Farr2rich-** I'm glad you liked the chapter, and I hope you enjoy this one too. My sympathies to you about your computer, I know how fickle these contraptions can be at times, particularly when it seems to realize that you are in a hurry. My thanks to you for letting me use your utility belt, as I needed something to allow Damas to quickly switch from one kind of Eco to another. (bows)

**MariaShadow- **Thank you for the compliment, my battle sequences are really about the only thing I think I can write really well, and I was always a little disappointed that the game never went into detail about such an important event.

**Xeno-Freak- **Glad you enjoyed the battle, and I'm sorry if I somehow irritated you with the Halo stuff that I've thrown in. As far as Praxis is concerned, he strikes me as the kind of guy who did all the wrong things for all the right reasons, if you know what I mean, and I'm actually toying with the idea of some sort of redemption type deal towards the end, as while I was rather upset at how he died, the way in which he did proved without a doubt, in my mind at least, that he's got guts. What do you think?

**Paska- **Thank you so much for your advice and ideas. As far as the plasmite grenades are concerned, Keira's gauntlet vibro blade has actually given me the idea of using a "sonic" grenade that she'll develop later that will eventually replace the plasmite ones. Basically it creates a high-power sound wave literally capable of turning something's bones into dust, and it usually can't be stopped by armor, unlike plasma. Also, thank you for the Ak-47 and the frag grenades, I think I'll probably put them in the sequel that I'm trying to put together, as I noticed that the Wastelander equipment seemed...more crude and primitive, if you will, than what Haven had at its disposal. Thanks again. (bows humbly)

**Exardas- **Yeah, it's like I told Paska, I just couldn't think of anything that would do the Haven military justice, as you never see them in a true traditional battlefield type situation, and the game doesn't exactly do into great detail about their tactics and weapons, if you know what I mean. I'm glad you like the story so much, and please let me know what you think of this chapter if you get the chance.

**Lunatic Pandora1- **Yeah, in hindsight, I suppose his name was sort of morbidly appropriate for that situation. And truth be known, I was a little disappointed as to how easily General Grievous fell to Obi-Wan, as the Clone Wars cartoon made him out to be something of an unstoppable killing machine. To Quote Kid Al-mundi (the cone headed Jedi, who was a survivor from Grievous' initial attack) "Granted, we were exhausted, but when was the last time someone stood up to five Jedi, and held his own?" Also, about D.J. being a berserker, when you put it in that light, and I think of what is going to cause him to make his first appearance in his evolved form, I would have to say that you are definiately correct, he will be berserking, at least as far as the K.G. are concerned.

**Shakai- **Glad that you liked the chapter. As far as Damas dying, I'll leave that up to your imagination, and yeah, Jynx is in the game, he just doesn't play a big role in number 2, so I thought I'd go and give him a bigger part, seeing as they never really went into detail about him. (just to warn you, he's a little different in this tale). Also "Might controls everything, Dante, and without it, you can protect nothing, least of all yourself." (hehe, Virgil kicks so much butt)

**daxter the otsel- **I'm not so sure about outdoing myself, but thanks for the vote of confidence. As far as your question was concerned, there have been a lot of prison stories done, so if you do one, try to put a twist on it that no one has seen yet. On the other hand, I can't really recall all that many stories about the whole banishment deal. It's really up to you, but I'm certain you'll do great which ever one you choose. (hope this was at least somewhat helpful to you)

**ChibiSess**- Sorry to do that to Damas, but I had to get him out of the picture somehow. And don't worry, Torn will feel plenty guilty, and things are about to get even worse for him (this is the chapter covering the coup, and it'll also explain how Torn got that injury that I hinted at at the end of chapter nine). I'm also glad that you liked the idea of Damas being a Channeler, as I'd always assumed it had been something hereditary, (plus, at the very end, and in some of the sequel, I plan on explaining how and why the original Channelers came about). One last thing, if by some chance you do draw a picture of Damas, could you let me know where you post it?

**Light-Eco-Sage- **Expect to see more blood and gore in this chapter, as it is the one where I ruthless kill off about ninety five percent of the OCs that I've thrown in to flesh out Torn's background. (I've noticed that in both this and my other tale, that my won characters have a very high mortality rate for some reason, (cackles insanely)) Hope you like this one as much as you did the last one.

**SRHumphry727- **I'm glad you like the story, and the twists that I've managed to think up in my demented and insane mind, may they hopefully not become too outlandish. (laughs nervously) Hope you enjoy this installment.

To those of you who read, but did not review, I hope you liked it, and please be certain to let me know if you spot anything that could be improved.

To those sad and pathetic lawyers who have to cruise through here looking for a frivolous lawsuit to try and instigate, I don't own this, or any other character not of my own creation, so bugger off and consider getting another job.

That done, here is the next chapter.

* * *

&

* * *

A Delta's Honor, Part Three: Our Finest Hour

He felt numb as he sat down within the drop ship, looking past his brothers, past the steel walls that he was confined within. While the others had removed their helmets, Torn kept his on, for the simple reason that he didn't want them to see their beloved squad leader cry.

For that was indeed what he was doing. He wept, something that he usually attributed as a weakness and attempted to squash at the first moment he felt it, or at least made certain that no one was watching. But this time, he couldn't hold back, and the tears silently poured down his face. He cried for Anton and all the other Deltas that had given their lives, seemingly in vain, on this terrible day. He wept for the loss of life in general, knowing that so many hadn't come back, whose corpses would now forever lie where they had fallen. And tears were shed as he realized that one of those bodies, doomed never to be recovered and brought home for the grieving loved ones, was King Damas himself. Their great and fearless leader had fallen to save them, when it was they who would have, and should have, gladly died for him. To top it off, he was the one designated to have to break the news to his wife and little kid.

How was he supposed to do that? How did one go up to a three year old boy and explain to him that the loving father he knew wasn't coming back?

Delta Forty Two continued to ponder that seemingly impossible challenge as the battered army heading back for Haven, utterly and completely defeated.

* * *

The ships set down in their designated areas, the Halcyons heading over to the industrial district and dropping off the tanks and men onboard, while the drop ships set themselves down in the various residential areas throughout the city. The one that he was on landed in the main square, which was right where the chaos was.

The rear hatch opened, spilling light into the compartment. The infantry regulars piled out, their eyes scanning the crowds, looking for members of their families. The civilians did the same, frantically searching and calling out names, hoping against hope that the owner of that name still drew breath.

For Torn and his squad, he knew there would be no such calling, for none of them had family to speak of, at least in the literal sense. The squads were his family, Jynx, Hunter, Ackerson, and all the rest, they were his siblings, his brothers and sisters. But even their losses had been disastrous. Never before in the history of their elite squads had so many Deltas perished in a single operation. Torn could recall, with infinite clarity, Samantha's broken cry as she was crushed by the strike of that Torresques tail, Anton's defiant scream of rage as he detonated his leftover charges in a final desperate bid to kill the thing. He would never see them again in this plane of existence, never spar with them, run through a drill or a mission together with them, never line up with them on the parade ground, they were gone.

He realized that people were staring at the other members of his squadron, and he understood after a moment, that it was because they had taken off their helmets. The public usually, as in never, saw the Deltas without them being completely outfitted in their gear. It must have surprised them to find out that there were actual, living, breathing elves underneath those eerie helmets. For once, it seemed, that their training and equipment was a curse, rather than a blessing.

Captain Errol hadn't been in the minority when he had referred to him and his men as windup toy soldiers, because that was what most people thought of them as. The way they were trained to be able to work perfectly without the need to speak to each other, they was they could take an Eco bolt through the arm and not even flinch, and stare certain Death in the face so easily, led many of the populace to simply assume that they were some sort of android or robot, a machine without feeling. They just didn't realize that they were people too, people who felt pain, people who had failings, who weren't perfect…people, who despite being able to stare Death in the face, still mourned and wept when he claimed one of them.

Torn suddenly realized that while he had been lost in his thoughts, he had unconsciously been trekking towards the palace with the rest of his squad. The Queen, her son, Ashelin, and a few Praetorian Guards stood at the grand entrance, their faces somber, with pain etched into their features. That pain, was about to increase tenfold for two of them.

As he began a slow trek up the stairs, the Delta popped the seal on his helmet, and finally removed it. He saw Ashelin's eyes dart over him, no doubt relieved that he seemed alright, as there was an enormous amount of carbon scoring on his armor from where he'd been hit by enemy fire. However, most of his attention was directed on Queen Alicia and Prince Alex.

The little boy was tugging at his mother's dress, asking why he couldn't see his dad with the other soldiers. His mother on the other hand, simply looked at the squadron of elite soldiers standing in front of her, and seemed to understand. Tears manifested themselves, and a noticeable slump came over everyone else. Finally, Torn managed to swallow the lump that was in his throat, and stepping forward, his head bowed in grief, told her of her Husband's fate.

"He covered the army's retreat, Ma'am." he said, his voice quiet and broken, before kneeling down to the toddler at her feet. "He told me to give this to you." and he gave the boy the amulet that had been passed down from parent to child since the days of Mar.

Then, unable to say any more, the Delta turned and led his squad inside.

* * *

Ashelin found him in the training room, still clad in his armor, and beating the living daylights out of a punching bag. The Delta's face was contorted in rage, and he screamed incoherently as he vented his pent up feelings on the bag. For several minutes, she just stood there, watching Torn unleash Echani martial arts upon it, until it could finally take no more, and a well placed roundhouse kick practically tore it in half, the sand inside of it spilling all over the floor.

"You did your best." she said quietly, causing him to whirl around in surprise.

"No, we didn't!" he snarled, after he had gotten over his shock, and realized just how out of it he had been, to let someone sneak up on him like that.

"You can't blame yourself for what happened." she said, walking up to him and placing her hands on his shoulders in an attempt to comfort him.

"He did it for us." Torn muttered, bowing his head. "But why couldn't he understand, we're soldiers, we're suppose to protect him, supposed to die for him," he suddenly clenched his fists in anger, "it isn't suppose to work the other way around!"

For once, Ashelin was at a loss for what to do, as he broke free of her grip and went over to another punching bag, before starting up another fierce combat routine. Finally, she did the only thing she could think of at the time. She walked over, and held it, steadying it to help him out.

* * *

"Someone once said, whenever you think things can't possibly get any worse, reality has a way of proving you wrong to the point of breaking the laws of physics." Torn said, staring at the ground once more.

"Dare I even ask?" Jak inquired, a frown on his face as he wondered how in the world things could have gone more downhill than they had.

Though, deep down, he knew what was going to happen: the coup, he just didn't know exactly, how, it had happened. He also felt a tangible sense of grief when he learned of Damas' fate, despite his remarks about not caring earlier that day. The dark elf couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he felt a strange sense of familiarity when the Ex-Delta across from him talked about the late monarch, a bond he didn't understand. For the moment, though, he simply shrugged it off and returned his attention to Torn's story.

"Less than a week after our assault on their home, the Metal Heads decided to pay us a visit." Torn muttered, shaking his head and sending his dreadlocks flying. "They hit us hard, and ripped through the outer Shield Wall, before we finally managed to stop them. But that part of the city was pretty messed up by the time it was all over with, as you've seen." He remarked, referring to Dead Town, in all its decay and whatnot, before quietly adding. "We loss two more Deltas in that area."

"Why weren't you getting any more?" the former Channeler asked. "I thought you said there were always supposed to be sixteen of you."

"Training a Delta took a lot of time, and we'd never loss so many so quickly." the Underground soldier answered, "Walon had his hands full trying to get us back up and running again."

Once more, the Ex-Delta paused, and took some time to organize his thoughts, before continuing with his story.

"A few months passed, and slowly, Praxis started changing." the tattooed commander said, looking Jak straight in the eyes. "He became obsessed about making Haven stronger, about making us powerful enough to make another assault on their nest, or something along that line, anything to put them out of commission permanently.

"Eventually, Praxis started gaining more influence with the council, things started happening, and laws started getting passed. Freedoms were restricted, all that other stuff. Well, eventually, some people had enough, and started fighting back."

"So the Underground's been around since before the coup?" the former Channeler muttered, somewhat surprised by this.

"Yeah," the tattooed commander confirmed, "but it didn't really get underway until after Praxis assumed control, as most of the people were a little hesitant about all but declaring war on what was left of the monarchy."

"When did you get involved with them?" Jak asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"I'm getting to that." Torn said, before continuing with his compressed history lesson. "The coup happened on March 15, 2560, at two forty P.M."

"Beware the Ides of March." Jak muttered so quietly that Torn couldn't hear him.

"Colonel Walon had taken the Delta trainees on a routine drill to eliminate a small Metal Head patrol that intel had caught sneaking around in the Wasteland areas out near the strip mine, but the whole thing was just a ruse."

"How so?" the dark elf inquired.

"So Praxis could be sure that he had all ten of em on the same transport ship that just happened to run into some problems, if you catch my drift, and having our C.O. along for the ride sweetened the deal." the Ex-Delta spat, his voice full of cold hatred. "After that, he and the majority of the Krimzon Guard revolted, and turned on the rest of us. Most were caught off guard, and got waxed before they had time to defend themselves. But, for those of us who did figure out what was going on…" he paused, his eyes shinning in a bitterly triumphant way, "we made them pay dearly…"

* * *

Two of them, green as a spring day more than likely, rushed around the corner, and just as quickly were sent to the realm of the Grim Reaper by Mendoza's rifle fire. Delta Forty Two was next to him, ducked down behind a makeshift barricade and was currently busy reloading his M-404. Once that task was accomplished, he peaked back over the barrier, and angled his rifle towards Krimzon Guard that he could see backing himself against the wall closest to him. He didn't shoot the soldier, however, but managed to get the burst close enough that the rookie made a stupid move: he swung himself out into the open.

Torn wasted no time in putting a trio of Eco bolts into his stomach, right in a small cap that his armor didn't cover, causing him to drop out in the open like a sack of potatoes. The wound would be fatal if the boy, as that was pretty much what he was, if the screams were any indication, didn't get treatment. However, that was exactly what Torn had wanted to do, create a serious but not instantly fatal wound. The majority of the blood colored soldiers that were being thrown at them were newbies, most of them just out of boot camp, and in the small squadrons of half a dozen or so that they were in at the moment, were absolutely no match for the two very much entrenched Deltas.

They were also prone to letting their comradery override their common sense. Unable to stand his buddy's cries any longer, one of them dropped to his stomach, and tried to crawl out and retrieve his squad mate. It was admirable, but even the Deltas, who did everything in their power to rescue down comrades, made it a point to make certain that all hostiles had effectively been neutralized before attempting such a maneuver. It would be a mistake that would cost the other boy his life, as a single rifle bolt bored its way into his temple.

Torn supposed that he would later regret having to use such a dirty tactic to try and eliminate his enemies, but this was war…a very different kind of war than what he was used to. And throughout this conflict, which if his H.U.D. clock was correct, was dragging its way into hour number two, a single message repeated itself through his brain, something that had been virtually hardwired into it since his indoctrination into the Delta Squads: protect the Royal Family at all costs.

There was a sudden flare of light off to his side and he realized that Mendoza had just primed a grenade. The other grey armored warrior chucked it, putting a bit of a curve into his throw, which resulted in the explosive bouncing off of the far wall and rolling over out of sight.

"Holy drek! Grenade!" he heard one trooper scream, and there was a few seconds of chaos before the explosion occurred.

Once again, the elven screams that echoed throughout the corridors testified to a growing death count. It also had the added effect of granting them a few moments reprieve to pull their senses back together, while using their comms to try and find out how things were going elsewhere.

* * *

It was about an hour later, when things finally started to go downhill. Praxis' own elite troops began showing up, veterans who had survived the disastrous assault on the Metal Head Nest and who knew what they were doing began to lead the attack, and the two Deltas found themselves barely able to hold onto their position. Still, they fought back stubbornly, the very fierceness of their resistance keeping their foes at bay for a time.

But, it was not to last.

On the fourth charge of these elite troops, one of them got lucky, and managed to stick a grenade onto Mendoza. Time seemed to slow, as it always did, when such tragedies happened. Delta Sixteen didn't panic, swear, or cry out like most did, he just calmly threw down his rifle, and leaped over the barricade, sprinting towards the advancing enemy. Caught unprepared and off guard by this suicidal blitzkrieg, they stood stock still as the grey armored warrior jumped into their midst. Torn watched, helpless and horrified, as the grenade detonated, and outlined Mendoza with harsh blue fire, before enveloping him entirely, ending his life and the lives of ten others who had been close to the Delta at the time.

Torn was paralyzed for what seemed like hours. He had lost comrades before, watched them die from afar as Anton had, unable to bail them out, and had had a few even die in his arms. But they had always left this life fighting the enemy, the Metal Heads. Never before had one of his brothers or sisters met Death at the hands of a fellow elf. That small detail, which made all the world of difference, left him unable to think for a second. Once that unit of time had passed, however, a murderous rage seized him, and a feral scream tore its way from his throat.

Reaching down, the elite warrior cocked his M-404, and fired. The first plasmite grenade hit the enemy on their right front, and blew almost fifteen of them to pieces. He cocked and fired again, this time angling the shot so that it would hit the Krimzon Guards that were coming around the corner to try and overrun his position. They were on their way to the next life before they even knew what hit them. His fury seizing control of him, Torn forgot about common sense, and heedless of his own safety, charged out from behind his cover, tramping over the bodies of dozens of the K.G. that had accumulated during the battle.

Turning the corner, he found the enemy, still trying to recover from the brutal counter attack that he had thrown at him. Needless to say, they were not expecting this apparently psychotic soldier to come running at them, let alone shoot two more plasmite grenades into their midst. Fury still not sated, Torn began firing off bursts from his rifle, finishing off anyone unfortunate enough to survive the initial blasts.

But, the Delta's righteous fury was to be short lived, as what appeared to be hundreds of the traitorous Guard came pouring in from the far corridor. Common sense finally managed to get a word in edgewise, and Torn was quick to realize that he would be joining his brother very quickly if he didn't get out of the way. Part of him still wanted to remain however, but he managed to override that suicidal thought. He wouldn't be able to avenge the death of his friend by joining him so soon.

So it was with a tear being burned away by anger, that Delta Forty Two retreated back down the hallway, firing as he did so, while several bolts connected on him, but thankfully didn't penetrate his armor. He fell back past the barricade where he and Mendoza had fought so hard for so long to hold off Praxis' men and women, pausing just long enough to toss away his nearly empty weapon and grab the one his brother had dropped when he had been hit by the grenade.

From there, he quickly charged backwards through a door, sealing it behind him and making certain to fry the controls while he was at it. That would buy him a few minutes, for he was now in one of the rooms that had long ago been designated as a defense area in the event of an attack upon the palace. And as such, the doors had been made of a solid foot of Titanium-A, meaning that the K.G. weren't going to be blasting through it anytime soon.

It also meant that there was an armory in close proximity to his current location. Putting aside his grief for Mendoza until after the current crisis had been dealt with, he went in search of some more ammo, and the possibility of some more devastating firepower.

* * *

He had little difficulty in locating the armory, though hauling everything back proved to be both time consuming and exhausting. He cursed his luck, wishing that the Praetorian Guardsmen who had been in his sector hadn't been wiped out so quickly by the surprise attack. Still, he would not despair, he had a battle to help win, and a brother to avenge.

Torn had been busy during the past twenty minutes, and had managed to set up some rather nasty little traps all over the room, with a final surprise left back in the armory in the event that he had to pull back. Rule number ten: if necessary, employ a scorched earth policy, don't leave anything behind that your enemy can take advantage of.

He'd also been keeping a rather close eye on the comm. chatter, and from what he'd been able to gather, the others weren't doing so hot either. Hunter and Ackerson were holding on to the northeastern area of the palace, backed up by Praetorians and a few K.G. that had remained loyal to the queen, while Jynx and Delta Thirty Three, Rachel, held the northwestern sector. For the moment, they were hanging on, but Praxis was quickly realizing that he'd overestimated the ability of his rawer soldiers, and was starting to send in more highly trained elite divisions to try and force the loyalists back towards the Throne Room.

Bringing his mind back to the task at hand, Delta Forty Two looked over the weapons that he'd brought in. He had some reloads for both his BR55 and the under slung M-404, a few submachine guns for when they got closer, a scatter gun for when they really started to get friendly, and a fuel rod cannon that he wasn't about to leave behind for the enemy to claim or to be blown up. In addition he'd also managed a nice collection of both flash bang and conventional grenades, the excess of which he'd rigged up with a few laser activated antipersonnel mines.

He smiled grimly at the worked he'd done so quickly, and felt genuinely sorry for the first poor sap to step through door number one. The laser mines were simple to activate and generally quite reliable. They consisted of two parts: the explosives package and a sensor, while the other part was a laser beam generator that was aimed at said sensor. After activation, should the beam be broken in any way, form, or fashion, the person or thing responsible for that would be in for a rather nasty surprise. While nowhere near as powerful as the Havoc charges that had been used in the assault upon the nest, they were rather notorious for the amount of high velocity shrapnel they could fill the air with.

It was a good thing that he had worked fast, as it was not another five minutes before the telltale sounds of a door cutter could be heard. Instantly, he tensed, and ducked down slightly, as he had little doubt that the enemy would be opening up the party with a few flash bangs of their own. The door was suddenly forced open, and sure enough, he heard the clank of something hitting the metal floor. There was a flash and a roar, and then the first ranks swarmed in.

Where they ran right into the rigged up traps. The first of the mines went off, and wet splattering sounds echoed throughout the room as elves were turned into something that normally came out of the business end of a meat grinder. However, there was no subsequent rush through the portal that led into the room, and so Torn knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was facing high level veterans. It sickened him that people who had served the Royals for so long would so abruptly turn upon them, not to mention have the audacity to strike down members of his family.

And so it was with great relish that he fired off his first burst at an elf who stuck his head around through the open door, trying to get a visual on what was going on. The burst didn't connect with the red armored soldier, however, it did manage to take his ear off. After that, no one moved. However, Torn zoomed in with his marco binoculars, and if the shadows were to be any form of a give away, he realized that the now one eared trooper was not alone. Carefully angling his rifle, he cocked the M-404 as quietly as he possibly could, as his foes would doubtless know that sound, and fired.

His aim had been off just slightly, and as a result, the Krimzon Guards had about two seconds warning as it hit the ground with a 'thunk' and bounced once before coming to a stop just outside the door way. Some got out of the blast radius, some did not, and those that did found themselves under a furious assault by the Delta. Veterans though they were, most had never seen one of these grey armored soldiers in action before, and as such, while well trained, weren't exactly up to snuff, so to speak.

Still, Torn was no fool, and knew that he'd been in for a rough time if he was going to try and hold this place by himself, no matter how heavily armed and entrenched he was.

* * *

It happened before he knew it. A frantic message came in from Ackerson, that they'd been swarmed and were falling back to the Throne Room, and that everyone else needed to do the same thing, or else the possibility of being outflanked and cut off was going to be a very real possibility.

"Jynx, did you copy that message?" he growled over the comm., grunting as he shifted the weight of the fuel rod cannon on his back.

"Yeah, but it ain't happening." the pyromaniac shot back, and torn could hear muffled gunfire coming from where he was.

"Jynx, they're going to flank you and your men, you and Rachel get out of there, now!" he shouted, not wanting to lose anymore of his brothers or sisters.

"Hate to break it to you, Leader-man," Delta Sixty Seven replied tersely, a bitter edge to his voice, "but Rachel's down and so are the Praetorians, I'm holding this area by my wee onesy!"

"Then what the hell are you waiting for?" Torn practically screamed, desperation in his voice. "Fall back, now!"

"I can't do that sir, there's too many of em, you won't be able to hold off this assault if they bring everything at you at once!" Jynx retorted as an explosion echoed over the comm. "And we already emptied the armory behind us and used most of the ordinance. This hallway's a choke point, and the only area where I can even hope to keep em busy long enough for you guys to get things sorted out. At any rate, We sealed the door behind us, and I got a few homemade goodies for the first few how manage to get through, so you should be good to go."

"Jynx, pull out now, that is an order!" Torn shouted frantically, only to have to fight back sorrow when he got his reply.

"I'm sorry, Sir," the demolitions expert said, his tone that of one who had resigned himself to death, "you're breaking up and I didn't catch that last transmission…"

The comm. line when dead, and he knew that Jynx had switched it off. He was hopelessly outnumbered, and couldn't possibly deal with all that was going to be thrown at him, and he knew. Yet still, he had stayed, knowing consigning himself to death in a desperate bid to buy them enough time…just like Damas had.

An Eco bolt exploding near his head caused him to snap out of his sorrow filled thoughts. He turned around and saw a trio of K.G. that had gotten ahead of the rest of them, probably scouting ahead to see if there had been anymore booby-traps laid out for their comrades. That burning rage filled him again upon seeing them, and he swung about, and fire from the hip, shattering the facemask of the first K.G., and hitting him at a point in his skull that literally resulted in the elf's head being blown apart, spattering the area with bits of bone and brains.

He then dove to the side, firing as he did so, catching the second soldier in the chest. Unfortunately, the enemy's armor held up to the attack, so he was forced to adjust his aim slightly as he finished his roll, and his next shot hit the elf square in the face, and he dropped.

At the same time, the third one of the troopers had been busy firing on him, but his superior armor had absorbed the Eco bolts and the elf had nothing more to show for his work than a few more black marks on the Delta where he had managed to hit him. Opting to try and conserve some ammo now that most of the threat had passed, Torn reached down with his right hand, and gripped his curved knife. With a flick of his wrist, it sailed end over end towards his foe.

A moment later, the man hit his knees, trying in vain to find the strength to tear the dagger from his throat.

"That was for you, Jynx." Delta Forty Two muttered, his voice broken.

He then ran over, retrieved his weapon, before doing a quick about face and heading back in the direction of the Throne room. And his keen ears did not miss the unnerving sounds that he had heard coming from around the corner. The enemy was catching up, and he knew it.

* * *

The doors slammed behind him as he rolled through, putting one last, heavily reinforced barrier between him and the revolting army. As he was getting to his feet, he looked around at the others who were in here, most trying to reinforce and barricade the door.

He felt his gut sink as he looked around and saw them. They had less than two hundred people in here. Granted, most of them were Praetorians and Hunter and Ackerson had managed to make it to the final fallback point in one piece, though their armor was covered in scorch marks and carbon scores where enemy shots had connected. He couldn't see their faces, but he knew by the slight slump of their shoulders that they'd heard the entire exchange between him and Jynx, and now knew without a doubt that they were the last of their family. Though considering the size of the enemy force, they likely wouldn't be for much longer.

The rest of the soldiers were a handful of K.G. regulars who had remained loyal to the queen. For the most part, they were untried and untested, not even sporting their first scars of battle.

Still, he thought, as handed his fuel rod cannon over to Ackerson and placed the rest of the weapons down on some supply crates that had been salvaged, if they were going to die, they would die fighting, and he personally aimed to take as many of these traitors with him as he possibly could.

"How did it come to this?" Queen Alicia suddenly inquired, shaking her head as she looked down to her son, who quite frankly looked scared to death. "Lieutenant Commander," she abruptly inquired of Torn, "what odds do you give us?"

"We'll do our best, Ma'am." he said wearily, the hours of fighting and the lost of the other Deltas finally starting to wear him down.

The Queen of Haven frowned, being smart enough to realize what that meant. She abruptly sighed, and a soft crying sound filled the air as Alex began sobbing, understandable considering that he was only three. With a motherly smile, she picked him up and cradled him, rocking him gently and planting a small kiss on his forehead in an attempt to comfort him.

"Perhaps if I just surrendered to him…" she mused suddenly, "perhaps then he'll let you and the others live."

"Every one of us will give our lives to stop them, your Majesty!" Delta Forty Two growled, thumping his fist against his battered armor and gesturing to the other soldiers. "And at any rate, even if you were to surrender, I don't believe that the General would allow for us to live, he's not that stupid."

The Queen looked at him, a sudden understanding coming over her. These troops, even if she were to give herself over to her brother, would still be killed. Not out of malice or spite, but simply because Praxis would remember with whom their loyalty lay, and that was something he would not be able to afford. If that was to be the case, then there would be another person to die here today, the little boy that she was cradling in her arms.

"If that is his intention, then I have one final order for you, Delta." she said, before abruptly thrusting out her son to him. "I want you to take Alex, get him out of here, find someplace safe."

"What?" Torn replied, before waving his arms in protest. "You can't ask me to do this, your Majesty, please." begging as he looked over to his two remaining brothers, who were watching the conversation as they readied their weapons.

"I gave you and order, soldier," the Queen said icily, glaring at him, "and I expect you to carry it out."

Reluctantly, he accepted the young prince, and looked over to his squad mates. Why did fate show him this cruel mercy? Why was he going to be the one to have to do this while his brothers remained behind to die? Why not Hunter or Ackerson? They were his men, his brothers, it was his responsibility to look out for them, make certain they survived. This went against every instinct that he had.

"You're the best one for the mission, Sir." came the calm voice of Ackerson over his private comm. channel, as if reading his mind. "Praxis' forces are swarming all over the city and he's declared martial law. You always had the highest scores in urban combat, so you've got the best chance of getting the job done."

"But what about you guys." he asked, his voice hollow, wishing he could deny what Delta Twenty Eight had said.

"You needn't worry about us, Danny," Hunter joined in with his Russian accent, calling him by a joking variation of his first name, "someone has to watch your back and give you enough time to get clear. And I for one," the marksman said as he got up and walked towards him with a submachine gun and a bandolier of power packs, "intend to make this Delta Squad's finest hour."

Reluctantly, he traded his BR55 for the DC-17, knowing that the rifle was too large to use effectively with one hand, and threw the ammo bandolier over his shoulder.

"They're starting to break through!" came a shout from one of the Praetorians up by the door.

"Time to get you out of here, Sir." Ackerson said, walking with Hunter up to the thrones and pulling them away to reveal an ancient trapdoor escape route, built in the event of just such an emergency.

The heir to the throne in his arms began to cry and reach for his mother, apparently understanding what was about to happen. The Queen of Haven said a quiet goodbye to her child, and then Torn forced himself to move towards that door, ducking down to get inside of it.

"Guys…" Torn began, but found himself overwhelmed by his emotions, and unable to continue.

"Good luck, Sir." Was Twenty Eight's reply, while Oh Five gave final words of "Good hunting."

With that, the door slammed shut, and a lift started rapidly moving down, away from his brothers, and probably into the jaws of Death.

* * *

It had been one of the most difficult fights of his life, getting has far as he had, and his armor showed it. Praxis' troops had been everywhere, and only by ducking in and out of back alleys and side streets had he managed to get as far as he had. Alex hadn't helped very much either, as getting in a firefight while holding a three year old that you'd sworn to protect with your life complicated things considerably. To his credit, though, the kid was smart, and knew when to stay quiet.

Nonetheless, things weren't looking good at the moment. They were currently tearing down through the slums, which had fallen into severe disrepair following the attack on the Metal Head Nest, as Haven's defense had taken a significantly higher priority. As a result, this sector wasn't patrolled as heavily by the K.G., and it was largely a gang ruled turf. However, Torn had been counting on the fact of the Delta Squads' reputations to keep any petty members and what not away, and so far that philosophy seemed to be working.

However, eventually, their luck broke and a Krimzon Guard trooper had spotted them, and had quickly called them in. Now, ever soldier in the whole freaking district was closing in on them. At that moment, a couple of six man squads came out of on of the adjacent streets, and Torn quickly pivoted about using his body to shield the young child in his arms, while leveling his DC-17 at his adversaries. Two had dropped, holes steaming in their armor. As they returned fire, he leapt into an alley next to where he was, being careful to not harm Alex while he was doing it.

Having bought himself a few seconds, Torn peered around the alley, looking to see what he could take advantage of. He quickly spotted a couple of old plywood crates that were now empty of their cargo. He ran over and ducked behind them, placing Alex down and putting a finger in front of his visor in order to tell the young prince to remain quiet. Something that would prove unnecessary, despite the fact that the child was shivering in fear.

The day had grown late during their flight, and now in the darkness provided by the slum buildings, Torn was thankful that his low light vision mode kicked in, which would give him an edge over the enemies superiors numbers. He looked down at his submachine gun noticing that the ammo on it was low, and he slipped in a new pack, before peeking up over the create he was behind.

He smiled grimly as he saw a small error made by his enemies. He could vaguely see a foot at the alley entranceway. This meant, if they were to follow standard procedure, that they were evenly split up on both side of the entrance way, and that they'd be trying to come at him in that fashion.

He didn't have to wait long before it started. The first two spun around while a third did a rolling leap to get in the middle. What they received was a plasmite grenade and a furious retaliation from his special forces weapon. His visor went dim for a moment to compensate from the sudden burst of light that the grenade created, and then he started to move forward, leaving his cover behind as he realized that they were likely to have grenades of their own, and he could not afford for them to start hucking them at him with the heir to the throne in the vicinity.

The strategy worked well, despite everything, and his superior urban combat training enabled him to take down his opponents.

Until the last one came at him.

He had the markings of a corporal on him, and was carrying a scatter gun. Torn, who had been crouched down and in the process of reloading when this guy had popped around the corner, threw aside his unloaded weapon and grabbed the gun, knowing that in its battered state, the odds of his Katarn armor stopping a scatter gun at point blank range was slim to none.

He wrestled back and forth with the K.G. trooper, trying to keep that thing pointed away from him. Slowly, he found himself winning.

But then, the entire day of fighting took its toll, and Torn slipped up.

His adversary suddenly reversed the direction of his pull. And, while Torn managed to compensate, there was a slim window of opportunity in which to fire, which the trooper took advantage of. While the Delta did get the gun pointed away from his chest by the time the shot came out of the barrel, he didn't get it all the way clear.

Pain surged through him and he suddenly couldn't feel his left leg anymore. Suddenly finding himself unbalanced, he leapt forward, bringing his foe to the ground with him. The brief flash of agony leant him a strange clarity, and while struggling to keep the enemy pinned beneath him and unable to fire off another round, he reached for his knife, unsheathing it and bringing it up.

Never aim for the heart, Walon had always told them. People didn't die nearly as quickly as you would think from such a wound, and a dying enemy could still take you with him. They'd always been instructed to go for the throat or the head, which was exactly what Torn did.

The blade came down, its expert crafted edge shearing through the light neck protection of his enemy, and plunging in up to the hilt. Killing an elf, an adversary, in this primitive fashion, awoke that feral rage for a third time, as he remembered that these people had now robbed him of his family, his life, and those he had sworn to protect. His screams distorted by his external speakers, He took the dagger out, the waning light reflecting off the red blood on it, and he brought it down again, and again, until he lost track of how many times he had plunged it into the man.

After about a minute, some rationality finally managed to work its way back into him, and he realized that his foe was quite dead. However, what puzzled him was the fact that he still couldn't feel his leg. His answer came when he sat up, and couldn't seem to finish getting up. Reaching down, he at last was able to understand why, and looking back a couple of feet, was able to see the remnants of it his leg, where the scatter gun blast had neatly taken it off just above his kneecap.

Then he understood why he really hadn't felt any pain after the initial surge. The rapid loss of blood was sending him into shock, and lacking a field medkit with some Green Eco to stop the bleeding or any other means, he was probably going to die very quickly. Such was his reasoning as he leaned back against the dura-crete wall of the building.

To top it off, he heard a rhythmic stamping of armored boots upon stone, and when he at last managed to look back up, found himself staring down the business end of a K.G. rifle.

Well, it looked like he would be joining his brothers after all. He closed his eyes calmly, waiting for the shot that would end his life. For what seemed an eternity, he waited, until at last he heard a blast. However, he realized that he was still very much alive after that, and opening his eyes back up, saw the K.G. squad taking aim at something up on the rooftops. However, caught by surprise and in a narrow space as they were, they were quickly cut down by this mysterious ally.

Well, whoever they were, they appeared to be friendlies, and maybe that meant he could get some sleep, he'd never felt so tired in his life. Still, he needed to stay awake just long enough to turn the prince over to them.

On both sides, down the fire escapes of the buildings, they came, and he was somewhat startled by their appearances. Bandanas and headbands covered most of them, and they were dressed in rough, civilian clothing, many of them sporting tears and whatnot in them. Their weapons were defiantly military grade, though, and he wondered where civilians had managed to get them.

He heard vague conversation between them and he realized they were talking about Alex. So, they'd found him, that was good. He listened as closely as he could over his growing fatigue, struggling to keep awake. They were addressing someone called "Shadow" or something like that.

His ears then picked another sound up, and he realized that someone was walking over towards him.

"Hey, I think this guy's still alive!" he heard the person shout.

There was a hurried scramble, and the last thing he could remember, before his world at last grew dark, was a short elf with a mustache staring down at him, with what appeared to be a log through his hair, of all the strange things.

* * *

He was suddenly aware of a return to consciousness, but he didn't open his eyes, at least not initially. Aside form the fact that he was quite surprised to find himself still alive, he was able to keep a relatively clear head. He listened, and thought he heard the breathing of someone sitting not to far from him, and his hands felt what appeared to be clean sheets. Slowly, he cracked his left eye open, and could see someone sitting in a chair next to him. It was all he could do not to have said eye shoot all the way open once he realized that it was the same elf that had been looking down at him as he had blacked out. However, what surprised him more than that, was to find out that this elf had green skin, and that it hadn't been his night vision giving him that appearance.

"You're very good at pretending to still be asleep." the elf replied, and chuckled slightly when the Delta made no response. "You can stop playing around, I noticed the change in your breathing rate."

Slowly opening his eyes the rest of the way, Torn sat up in the bed he was on, staring over at the strange elf.

"I suppose some introductions are in order," he began before standing up and walking over to him, "I am known as the Shadow, but you may call me Samos if you would prefer."

"Torn." he said bluntly, before getting to a more pressing point. "How am I still alive?"

"Partially because of my healing skills, and partially due to sheer, dumb luck. You lost quite a bit of blood, and we almost lost you a few times." Samos responded. "Oh, by the way, you've been out of it for about four days now."

"Any news from the palace?" Torn asked, still hoping he could deny what he knew in his heart to be true.

"I'm sorry…" the Shadow said, bowing his head.

The older elf then stood up, and placed his hand on his shoulder in a comforting manner.

The weight of what had happened had finally set in now that he was out of combat, and it came crashing down on him, crushing him beneath the burden. Ackerson, Hunter, Jynx, they were all dead. He was the last of his kind. The pain hit him in the heart like a dagger, and then Torn did something he'd never done in the presence of others: he wept.

* * *

"Samos called it 'survivor's guilt,' and said that I'd get over it eventually, but that it could take years." Torn said bitterly, and before Jak could ask him, rolled up his left pant's leg, revealing a limb composed of wires and metal. "Something some of the technicians made for me, though Keira later came along and made it a lot better than it was."

"I'm sorry for what happened to you." the dark elf said, feeling a strange bit of sorrow, some for Torn, some for the young Prince now sitting on the briefing table, his own childish eyes downcast and teary all the while trying to ignore the sudden image of the green hair elf that appeared in his mind's eye. The sorrow was something mirrored by his inner demon, if its spoken thoughts were to be any indication.

"Praxis soon set himself up as 'The Baron' after that, and he became a different person." Torn said abruptly, staring off into space. "The General I fought alongside of at the Nest was nothing like the person currently choking the life out of this place…far as I'm concerned, the officer I would have died for never came back from that disaster. And I wasn't the only one hurt, either." he continued, nodding down to Alex. "He hasn't spoken a word since, like he's got a bad case of post traumatic stress syndrome."

And then the Ex-Delta fell silent, and Jak thought he saw a tear make its way down his face. Deciding it was best to leave the commander alone with his sorrow, he pivoted about, and left the room, heading to mull things over, and get some shut eye.

* * *

&

* * *

Well, there you have it, Torn's past in a nice, three chapter mini series. This accomplished, the next chapter will likely be a few weeks down the road, timeline wise, and you'll see how Keira is doing, and Jynx will also explain how in Hades he is still alive. After that, it'll be off to Mar's Tomb.Dear Heavens, I think I actually did this whole thing without putting myself down...that's a first... 

Any way, I hope you have enjoyed this conclusion to Torn's story, and please feel free to let me know what you thought, be it in the form of criticism, flame, or especially ideas and suggestions.

Thanks for your time, and I shall now leave you with a random quote.

"There are some people that we indiscriminately associate with evil, namely among these being pirates, IRS agents, and people whose names begin with 'Darth'"


	20. In Which Daxter Gives advice, and Someon

(Walks out, humming Ode to Joy)

Hello everyone, and please don't mind my butchering of Beethoven's greatest work, had to study the finale for the ninth symphony for a class, and it has chosen these past few days to once again surface in my conscious memory.

I'm going to apologize in advance here, as we're leaping several weeks ahead in storyline time, as I could not think of anything to fill up that block...I know it's a lame excuse and I hope that it doesn't detract from the story in any way. Also, there's going to be something of a confrontation near the end of the chapter, in which something odd will happen, and I think I'm going to have a couple of characters be seriously OOC, if this is indeed the case, I once again apologize.

But enough about my feeble talents.

To those of you kind enough to review

**MariaShadow- **I'm glad that you liked it, and Jynx has a much larger role in this chapter, and yes, Torn will find out that his ole war buddy is still alive and kicking in more ways than one. Matter of fact, he'll probably find out in either the chapter after the next one, or the one after that.

**Farr2rich- **I'm glad you think I'm making Torn look more human, as in the game he had about as much personality as a block of wood. Also, I must ask you to refrain from reducing your school to a glass crater, as while there is no doubt that it is evil beyond measure, it is unfortunately, a necessary evil. That said, thanks for the review and good luck in your own writers. (P.S. did you get that E-mail that I sent you?)

**Exardas- **Hopefully it was an entertaining history lesson, and now the action is going to flip back to Jak and company. Read your story, doing great, and I hope my review was helpful. Good luck to ya.

**Shakai- **I always wondered about Torn's past myself, because he said he was in the guard, and he never went into detail about it. Plus, I also noticed that the tattoos that he had on his face were somewhat different from the normal guards, and so it made me wonder if he had been in some sort of special offshoot. Alas, the game never revealed anything. And yes, Jynx will be telling how he survived, hopefully the method I used wasn't to horrid or lacking in skill, if you know what I mean.

**Light-Eco-Sage- **Yeah, he's got survivor's guilt, and he's going to be having some more problems down the road, with a certain decision we both know he's going to make. Also, if you see and OC of mine, keep track of how long their around before the Grim Reaper pays em a visit, they have an average chapter life of about two point five or so. Also, I need to ask you something. I've been trying to email you with some questions, but I keep getting some sort of bizarre error reading, do you know what might be causing this?

**Xeno-Freak- **Glad you liked the mini-series, I was hoping that I got across a side of Torn that was never shown in the game, as his human characteristics were somewhat lacking, in my humble opinion. However, you can rest assured that he will be meeting back up with Torn, with another event that I'm going to be shamelessly altering to fit the story. Thanks again for the review. (bows)

**daxter the otsel- **Yeah, Jak did have a vision of the battle. It was supposed to be a way of his mind trying to piece everything back together that had happened, but a few wires got crossed, if you get my drift. About your own story, it sounds interesting, and I would be honored to try and help you out if you need it, though I honestly don't know how much help I could be. At any rate, hope to see it up soon, and thanks for your time.

**loyanini- **I thank you for the time that you have spent reading this and the fact that you are being so openly honest, though I think you are giving me too much credit with my writing skills. Yeah, I know that giving Jak a sword was definitely clichéd, and I guess my reasoning behind it was that I wanted the Channelers to have a different kind of weapon that sort of set them apart, as the Eco Channeling abilities would pretty much cover them in the ranged combat department. I also feel obligated to warn you that Jak's dependence upon Kitetsu will increase in a few chapters. If this causes you to want to stop reading, then I'm sorry I have wasted your time. Once again, though, you have my thanks for the vote of confidence. (bows politely)

**Paska- **Actually, I've never played Brute Force, and the only weapon I can really remember from the demo that I saw was that portable nuke launcher the big scaly dude was carting around. Keira's close combat weapon isn't actually a vibro blade at all, I just didn't know what else to call it. A true vibro-blade, is simply a knife, dagger, sword or what have you, that has a power cell in it causing the blade to move back and forth too quickly for the eye to see, rather like a glorified electric carving knife. What Keira is using is a crystalline substance that she's developed that when a power current is run through it, causes a resonation that creates an 'blade' of ultrasonic sound waves capable of carving the living daylights out of most things. The grenades would work along the same principle and use the same material, but the power would cause an unstable chain reaction that would result in the detonation. There is also one other thing I must know, what did you men by Mendoza being from Halo? I regret that its been a while since I've been able to play it (little brother hid the game in a fit of rage and has since forgotten where he put it), but the only people I can really remember having names were Sgt. Johnson, the Keyeses, Cortana, some vague reference to Chief's name being John, and that poor Jenkins fellow who got turned into Flood fodder. I apologize if that irritated you, but I just wanted you to know that Halo wasn't influencing that little bit, it was just some random name I slapped on an OC whose entire purpose was to get killed and piss Torn off. Oh yeah, thanks again for the gun ideas. (bows politely)

**Lunatic Pandora1- **True, nothing is infallible, as many a bad guy has learned the hard way, to the delight of readers and moviegoers. I'm glad you liked Torn's background, and while I'm not certain how, I do intend for Jynx to make some wisecracks about his name when they get back in action together. Plus, he will definitely be living up to his name come the next chapter...I hope.

**Dunce- **I'm glad you liked that line, I've always been told that I am somewhat challenged in the humor department, so its nice to know when I manage to slip in a line that cracks someone up. I hope I can continue to keep Daxter in character and with luck, he'll provide some more such moments.

To all of you who read, but did not review, I hope that hits proved to be worthy of your time.

To all lawyers, read previous disclaimers to see any information applying to you.

On a final note, I also want to say that, at least for the purposes of this story and any that may follow it, that Jak and Mar are not one in the same, thank you.

That said, here is the next chapter.

* * *

&

* * *

In Which Daxter Gives Advice, and Someone Defies Death

Weeks had passed since the dark elf had run into her, and still, try as he might, he could not rid his mind of her. That last glimpse of Keira as he had sped away from the forest clearing haunted him in his dreams, at least the ones that did not involve the extraordinarily painful death of a certain despot. He kept having to remind himself that it was for his own good, that she'd be safer away from him.

Safer from both Praxis, and himself.

He'd sworn to destroy the man who'd turned him into the abomination that he was at any cost, and driven by this all consuming thirst for vengeance, he feared for her, what he might do if for even one instant, he lost control. By this he did not mean his dark alter ego, as the battle in the forest had proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that the creature meant no harm to either her or to Daxter, and instead actually seemed ready to fight to the death for their safety.

No, he feared what he himself might do. The Oracle had said that his quest for vengeance would eventually send him plummeting into madness, and who knew what might happen then.. He did know that he was dangerous enough even without his Channeling powers at his disposal, and that if he were ever to snap when she was near…

He abruptly shook the thoughts from his head as he stepped into the Hip Hog. Krew had called him up, 'requesting' that he go out on a job for him. It had been some time since he'd been able to unleash his anger upon something, and he'd practically leapt at the thought of getting some action, despite the fact that he absolutely despised the Good Year Blimp ordering him around like he was some common mercenary.

The usual rabble was to be found in the seedy pub, but even the toughest of the patrons kept their distance from the trench coat clad fighter, opting not to make eye contact either. Jak, as did all people capable of significantly above average fighting capabilities, had a way of carrying himself when out in public. It was an old subconscious form of body language probably hailing back to the earliest days of the elves, back before they had a language that could be written or spoken.

It translated rather simply: keep away from me, and you'll live to see tomorrow.

Towards the back, he could see Tess at the taps, working hard to keep the customers nice and drunk, and keeping her ears peeled for any information that might prove useful to the resistance. Upon reaching where she was, he took a seat, and asked for some water, as he wasn't a big fan of alcohol, and preferred to keep his wits about him.

Daxter, on the other hand, had no such qualms, and had promptly ordered the strongest thing available in the most flirtatious way that he could. The former Channeler merely rolled his eyes, and taking the water bottle from Tess, stood up and proceeded to move around towards the back of the establishment, where he knew that Krew would be waiting.

And indeed, the floating mound of lard was there, his one good eye darting around towards him as he went over towards the wall, leaning against it as he downed some of the contents of the bottle in his hand. All the while he never took his eyes from the crime boss, and noted, with a grim amount of satisfaction, that Krew seemed to be keeping a distance from him, no doubt due to the…unorthodox weight loss plan that Jak had nearly put him through the last time he had been in close proximity to the dark elf.

Sig was present in the room as well, and was, not surprisingly, polishing his beloved Peace Maker. Taking another sip from his drink, Jak nodded in Krew's direction, wanting to find out what it was the bar owner wanted done, so he could hurry up, get whatever pay was being offered, and get back to the Underground base.

"Glad you could make it, Jak." Krew began, his voice as oily as ever. "This mission is going to be a hard one, and I need every skilled person I can get my hands on to get it done."

"So what is it?" the dark elf inquired, crossing his arms across his chest.

"You might not believe it, but in my earlier days I was quite the avid art collector." The floating blob said, placing his right hand against his chest and rearing up as best he could, considering his bulk. "At one point in time, I sent some of my people out to…acquire…a particular piece of sculpture from the Haven City Museum, a rather nice looking statue of Mar, complete with a bejeweled key and also, according to some local legends, holding some kind of ancient Precursor artifact within it." Krew said, tapping his fingers together and getting that greedy gleam in his eye again.

"So why haven't I seen it lying around with the rest of your…'private collection'?" Jak inquired, realizing that the men had somehow managed to botch the job.

"As luck would have it, the plan called for them to use the sewers as both an access point and a means by which they could get the statue out of there without the Krimzon Guards being any the wiser." Krew said, before his voice became a frustrated growl. "There had been a lot of rain during that time, and some miserable fool chose that exact night to divert flow to the sewers. The statue and my men were lost."

"Please tell me you are not sending me down there into the sewers again for a fetch quest!" Jak groaned, getting ready to up and leave.

"You don't have ta worry about that, Cherry," Sig said, entering the conversation for the first time, "A couple of our guys spotted the statue about a week ago, but they didn't have a way to get it out of there, though they were able to mark its location. That's where we come in."

"So it's going to be you and me again, huh?" the dark elf remarked, before Sig answered him with a frown.

"There will be others besides you and Sig, Jak," Krew said, his working eye narrowed, "I'm not taking any chances the second time around, what with the Metal Heads infesting the sewers, I want that artifact and the city's key!" the overweight man bellowed, before quickly managing to compose himself. "There's going to be another team assisting you, they'll meet you inside the sewers."

"And what's in this for me?" the dark elf asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Sig got up and walked over to him, handing him a strange looking chip, similar to a gun mod. Peering at it, he looked up at the Wastelander, asking a silent question.

"That's our supplier's latest modification for the morph guns." the enforcer answered. "It broadens the firing chamber of the gun, makes the shots more powerful with a minimal waste in efficiency."

"Nice." Jak remarked.

Krew then took the time to grunt, a not so subtle signal for them to stop wasting time and get to doing what he'd ordered them to do. Holstering his weapon, the resistance fighter proceeded to do just that, quickly being followed by Sig.

As he and the Wastelander reentered the main bar area, Jak went over to collect Daxter, who, in the ten or so minutes that he'd been in the back, had managed to down quite a bit of booze, if the half dozen or so shot glasses were any indication. Surprisingly enough, though, the Ottsel did not appear to be drunk in the least bit, and to say that his elven compatriot was confused as to how he could consume so much alcohol despite his small size without any apparent adverse effects would be very much accurate.

"So what's the job this time?" Daxter inquired, as Tess reached down and started scratching him behind his ears.

"Another fun filled day in the sewers." came Jak's growled reply, earning him a groan from his friend.

"Which you're gonna be sitting out, Chili Pepper." Sig said, earning him looks from the other three. "With all that could go wrong down there, we doing need you blowing out our eardrums and complicating matters."

Daxter, for once, kept his mouth shut. He was a little worried about Jak, but his own sense told him that the dark elf would have little to worry about, as a couple hundred Metal Heads could certainly testify to his combat skills, to say nothing of what happened when his little guardian devil decided to come out and play. Besides such an opportunity gave him a chance to…chat…with a certain female bartender.

And so Jak and Sig walked out of the Hip Hog, and hopped into a two seater zoomer that the armored elf had indicated they were to use.

"So," the former Channeler asked, once they were under way, "who are these other guys that we're going to be running around with?"

"It's a three man outfit that I've worked with before." the Wastelander replied. "Two of em are brothers, Grim and Mog, though I ain't exactly sure what their real names are." the armored elf remarked before going into greater detail, "Grim's a bit skittish, but from what I understand, a fairly decent computer slicer. Mog's the younger of the two, though you wouldn't guess it by looking at him, and he's dumber than a box of rocks, but handy with a blaster."

"A regular three stooges," Jak muttered, leaning back in his seat, "so who rounds out the trio?"

"That would be Jynx." Sig said, and Jak thought he could detect a slight amount of animosity in his voice.

"There something between you and him?" inquired, deciding to follow through on his curiosity.

"No," Sig replied, "but I get the feeling there's a lot more to him than what meets the eye."

"Why do you say that?" asked the dark elf, looking at him strangely.

"After being in my line of work for a while, you get to be able to tell an awful lot about people just by watching em." Sig responded. "I don't know what it is exactly, but there's something strange about him. He's not your average, two-bit blaster jockey, he's different from others mercs, if you know what I mean."

Jak fell silent, pondering what the Wastelander had said. His thoughts drifted to the tale Torn had told him those weeks ago and wondered…but then…no, not even he, with all of his unnatural abilities, would have been able to survive against such odds. This elf, though bearing the same name as Torn's comrade, had to be a different person. The pyromaniac that Torn had fought along side of for so long was probably pushing up flowers in some unmarked mass grave along with every other poor soul who got waxed in the coup.

Of course, one would think, that given all that he'd been through, he should have realized that to some people, the odds meant nothing.

* * *

The sewers seemed just as he had left them, dank, cold, and with a smell all their own. His eyes quickly adjusting to the dimness, Jak stepped jumped off of the ladder, and started looking down either side of the corridor, searching for the other team.

"About time you guys decided to show up." came a voice from off to the side.

Jak whirled around, his magnum and Kitetsu clearing their respective holsters at the same time. A figure stepped out of the darkness, revealing himself in the dim light. Jak took in the sight of the other elf, who was a little shorter than himself. His blond hair was somewhat unkempt, and his brown eyes seemed…old, for lack of better term, like the eyes of someone who'd seen a lot in his time in the world.

That was about all he could make out of the elf's face, he was wearing a blood red bandana over most of his face. The former Channeler also took the time to notice his soon to be team member's weapons. In a holster on his right, was a weapon that he recognized as one of Keira's morph-guns, set to a submachine gun mode. However, it was the other one that truly caught his attention.

Strapped to the elf's left hip, was a DC-17.

"Hey there, tin head." the elf said, nodding his head in Sig's direction.

"Where's the rest of the crew, Jynx?" the Wastelander said, his tone very down to business.

The mercenary leader simply stuck his thumb back over his shoulder, pointing down the corridor. Looking past him, Jak saw the outlines of two more people approaching, one significantly larger than the other. As they stepped forward to the point where he could see them better, he also gave them a ones over.

The smaller of the two, Grim, probably, as his eyes kept darting around, as if searching for some hidden danger, held a nondescript weapon and was clad in what appeared to be bits and pieces of standard issue Krimzon Guard equipment. The other one, who was without a doubt Mog, was built like a tank, and clutched what looked like a heavy repeater rifle, holding it easily in one hand.

"Well, since this is your first time working together, I'd like for you guys to meet Jak." Sig said, getting a nod from the mercs.

"We know who pretty boy here is." Jynx said, getting a stare from the dark elf that caused him to chuckle slightly. "You're easy to recognize, Jak, your numero uno on Praxis' most wanted list, and with the price on your head, it's a wonder that you ain't got bounty hunters just lining up to try and take you in."

"Is that a threat of some sort?" the former Channeler growled, getting a snort from the elf standing across from him.

"I'm not stupid, blondie," Jynx said, turning around and walking down the sewer corridor, causing Jak to notice a rather large pack that he on, "if you've been able to do everything the K.G. have been saying you've done, then you're definitely not someone I want to tango with." the mercenary then paused, and looked back over his shoulder. "Besides, I'm not a fan of the current administration of Haven."

Jak remained quiet, now fully understanding what Sig had meant when he had said that this mercenary was different from others. Most of them, really didn't care where their next paycheck came from, and just about anything went. Jynx, however, gave off something, he couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he knew that he wasn't the kind of merc you ran across everyday. On top of that, he, like Jak, seemed to also have a way of moving, different from his comrades, that hinted at something else, something more dangerous than your average gun for hire.

"Alright," the mercenary leader said, drawing his guns, "pretty boy, you're up on point, Sig, you got the rear guard, and everyone make sure you stay as far away from me as you feasibly can, cause I'm carrying about thirty kilos of high explosives here, and if that takes enemy fire…well, you can probably figure the rest out."

With that, they started on their merry little way.

* * *

Some hours had passed since Jak and Sig had left to go trudge through the muck and sewage that was underneath the city, and Daxter wished them well. He, for the most part, had been distracted by other thoughts, most revolving around the elf that had taken a liking to him, and he and Tess shot playful banter back and forth to each other, until at last the time came for her to get off shift. Not exactly wishing to be left alone in a tavern with arguably the fattest man on the planet and the ruffians currently in the bar, the rodent had opted to follow her, something she gladly allowed for.

Most would have found her relationship with the Ottsel to be strange, or would have marveled at her apparent patience to be able to tolerate his antics for as long as she had. Truthfully, she didn't find dealing with him to be all that difficult. And though he could at times be the very living definition of immaturity, he had a way of trying to just make you laugh, of lifting that spirit of depression that seemed to fill every part of the city these days. While some of his jokes weren't all that funny, they weren't that way from lack of trying.

And that kind of cheer that he gave her might be just what the doctor ordered from a certain techo wiz that she called a friend. And so, as the sun began to make its way down in the west, she made her decision.

"So where to, now, angel?" Daxter inquired, walking a double pace to keep up with her.

"I'm heading to visit Keira." Tess replied, getting a frown from the rodent in response.

For once, Daxter was taking things seriously. He knew that Jak had hurt her, hurt her badly with his sudden fit of what appeared to be insanity. Well, it seemed as though fate had decreed that he, in his ever influential role of best friend to the dimwitted male in the relationship, was to be the middle man in attempting to patch things up. He wasn't exactly sure how in the name of the Precursors he was supposed to do that, with Jak's stubborn insistence that he was a danger to Keira and to everything else, but he at least owed it to the both of them to try and reassemble the relationship.

He was suddenly yanked out of his thoughts by the realization that his feet were no longer on solid ground, and that something, or more likely, someone, had him by the scruff of the neck. He twisted about and found himself staring into Tess's eyes, and indignant look quickly making itself manifest upon his face.

In response, she simply smiled, and pointed to an area just in front of where the Ottsel had been walking. Daxter was forced to grin sheepishly as he realized that, for once distracted by something that was actually of an important matter, he had nearly blundered straight into some freshly laid, and still drying, dura-crete.

A few seconds later, the former elf decided to make the most of the moment and asked her why she'd stopped him from trying to grace the sidewalk with his footprints and John Handcock. Laughter rang out from among the two as they continued upon their way, drawing a few strange looks from those passing by, but paying them no heed.

* * *

"More hostiles, nine o'clock!" Jynx shouted, gesturing to the other side of the sewer intersection, before turning his guns upon the encroaching Metal Heads.

Jak turned with the others, and sighted up a Grunt that was near the front of the charge. A three shot burst from his magnum connected solidly with its chest, blasting it back with enough force to have it fall on the monsters coming up behind it. His next target was a Centurion, which was advancing with its energy shield held up and its blaster pistol firing straight at him. Once more, he demonstrated Kitetsu's unusual ability to deflect projectile attacks, and sent the Eco bolts flying back into the enemy ranks, cutting several of them down. The one last shot came in, and he swung his dark katana straight down, sending the burst of energy right back at the Centurion. The bolt caught the shield at an angle, and caused the creature to stagger. It was a window of opportunity that the dark elf capitalized upon, bringing up his morph gun and firing off another burst, which caught the bipedal Metal Head right in its cranium, and for lack of a better description, effectively blew it off.

He had to hand it to Keira, she most definitely knew how to build a good weapon. Unfortunately, that thought of her led to another, and very nearly resulted in a lot of pain for the former Channeler, as a Drone that none of them had noticed had snuck up behind them, and this one was apparently smart enough to realize that growling before striking, as was the norm with its kind, would not be a healthy strategy. Fortunately, aid would once again come from a certain pale skinned demon.

_**Behind you!**_

In a single, blurred movement, Jak pivoted around to intercept the creature as it struck. Kitetsu sang once more, and the former Channeler snarled as he slashed downward. The stroke caught the very much surprised Metal Head right between the eyes, and the creatures own momentum assisted with its bisection, resulting in two neat halves falling to the ground next to the dark elf.

Not wasting an instant, he whirled around to take aim and was just in time to watch Sig send a very familiar ball of electrical energy flying into the ranks of the enemy. It exploded, and the shot devastated what was left of the aggressors.

"Yes!" the Wastelander shouted, pumping his arm into the air.

The threat past, Jak took the time to both reload his weapon, and to send his thanks to his alter ego, whose vocabulary and intellect had been skyrocketing at what most would consider to be an alarming rate over the past few weeks. In fact, the exponential rate of growth made the dark elf wonder just how long it would be before he would be holding regular conversations with the creature. Of course, that was also thought to be the first sign of insanity, but what did shrinks know about real life?

He was suddenly aware that someone was staring at him, and turning around, found Jynx reloading his DC-17, looking him square in the eyes.

"You're pretty handy with that thing." the mercenary said, nodding to his morph gun.

The other elf then looked down to the cleaved Drone, whistling slightly as he saw what had been done to it. And then, as had happened so many times before, the elf looked up, and let his eyes roam across the weapon responsible for the kill, pausing slightly as he did so. However, the moment passed swiftly, and Jynx was once again ordering his men forward.

That was something else that puzzled the dark elf. Jynx was different from other mercenaries that he'd seen Krew use in another fashion as well: he didn't talk like them. He used military terms, pointed out objectives and targets with gestures, and he also didn't possess that flair that most of them had. In other words, his style of gunslinging was lacking in the fanciness that most guns for hire had incorporated. In the end, that made his way of doing things a little less flashy, but considerably more efficient and effective. It was style he had seen only once before.

It left Jak wonder, if perhaps…maybe…just maybe…Torn wasn't as alone as he thought.

* * *

They had reached the garage where Keira worked, and had been about to head inside when they heard faint conversation. One was obviously the aqua haired mechanic speaking, but the other, was a male, and possessed a voice that made Daxter gulp, and caused Tess to quietly and quickly pull them back into a space between some of the buildings.

Daxter forced himself to quiet his breathing, as while he had purposefully not gone into explicit detail, Jak had said that Errol was capable of things that would have likely resulted in Gol Akaron loosing his lunch, and that was saying something. It was also backed up by the fact that just about everyone agreed that the Krimzon Guard Commander was practically the dictionary definition of sociopath. Therefore, it seemed rather practical for someone who had a tendency to stand out from a crowd, and who happened to have been noted riding on the shoulder of Haven's Most Wanted, to not draw attention to himself or to Tess.

The talking between Keira and Errol became louder, and he realized that they were coming closer to where they were, and the two of them ducked back as far as was feasibly possible, well, at least Tess did. Daxter, on the other hand, became possessed by an insatiable curiosity, and changing his thinking to a belief that he could remain unnoticed if he stayed close enough to the ground, crawled to then end of the alley and peeked around the corner. Seconds later, the Baron's right hand elf walked out into the darkened street, turning around after a moment or two.

"A splendid evening, my dear, think you'd be up for the same thing tomorrow, hmm?" he inquired in an oily tone that would have put Krew to shame.

"Sure, I'd love to!" Keira responded, and Tess instantly recognized that she'd gone into 'ditz mode.'

Apparently, the act worked as it always had, making Errol think of her as little more than a naïve young woman with an affinity for racing speeders. And so, complete with a smile that would have sent shivers down the spine of any sane person, the K.G. Commander leaned down, and kissed her.

For an instant, the Ottsel entertained the notion of stabbing out his own eyes to rid himself of, that, image. But then, realizing that it was now permanently burned into his memory, he settled upon deciding to attempt to bludgeon himself into a slight case of amnesia at a later date.

Errol, meanwhile, had started walking down the street, whistling at the top of his lungs. Keira waited outside until he had moved beyond her field of view, and then quickly ducked back inside. Double checking to make certain that the coast was clear, Tess moved through the open garage door, with Daxter hot on her heels. Once, inside they could hear the sound of running water, which was followed by gargling, and a rather loud spewing. They turned a corner, and saw the aqua haired elf, hunched over a sink and repeating the previous steps, as if trying to rid her mouth of an extremely foul taste.

"Pah, blag, ug!" the mechanic sputtered, before shutting off the water, and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"That bad, eh?" Tess inquired, causing Keira to instantly spin around, her fists balled up, and ready for a scrap.

"Tess…" she trailed off, once she realized who it was, and relaxed her stance.

"I admire your ability to see that guy day after day and manage to not shoot him as he walks off." the Underground fighter remarked, shaking her head.

"Believe me," Keira responded, crossing her arms and glaring at the floor, "it's getting harder and harder not to do that."

Daxter chose that moment to clear his throat and walk forward a bit, to where he could see both of the girls.

"Excuse me," he began in his ever famous, 'I want answers', way of speaking, "but as an Ottsel who personally hates being left in the dark, would either of you two lovely ladies mind telling me just what the heck is going on here?"

"Daxter?" Keira said, somewhat surprised to see him here, and also to not see him in proximity to a certain ex-Channeler. "Where's Jak?"

"Currently traipsing around the sewers with Sig and few other guys for Krew." the Ottsel answered, before quickly getting back to the subject that he wanted to know about. "Now then, please tell me why in the name of the Precursors a man whose name is synonymous with psychotic just got all mushy with you?"

"Oh, that." Keira remarked, her tone icy. "Errol, you might say, took a bit of liking towards me after I had to fix up his zoomer one day, and he's been hounding me ever since."

"And being as smart as she is," Tess picked up, "she quickly realized that men in his position often receive certain bits of key intelligence, and under the right circumstances, tend to reveal it."

"And just how far have you gone with him?" Daxter muttered, frowning.

"Has anyone ever told you how much of a pervert you are?" Keira shot back, glaring at him, shuddering at the notion of what the Ottsel was implying.

"A few times, maybe." the diminutive rodent remarked, smiling slyly. "But, then, as entertaining as the notion is, I didn't come here to talk about me."

Keira was quick to pick up on his meaning, and turned around, not wanting him to see the pain on her face, the weakness that she hated herself for.

"What about that?" she said bitterly, not bothering to face him.

"I wanted to…" Daxter started, before pausing, and scratching the pilots cap on his head, unsure of how to do this, "apologize for him, Keira, he's been having it rough lately, if you know what I mean."

"Does he think he's the only one?" Keira growled, memories of her own dark times flashing through her minds eye in a few seconds.

"No," Daxter began, frowning, "but he's the only one here who has a tendency to turn into something out of a bad horror film when things get ugly." The mechanic looked over at him but he held up a small hand to let him finish. "And, for that you may thank senior sociopath who just pranced out of your front door."

"What do you mean?" Tess asked, a little confused.

True, Daxter had confided in her about Jak's condition, but only up to a point, and she'd heard nothing about what had caused it outside of the knowledge that Baron Praxis was somehow responsible.

"I mean," Daxter said, his voice as fury laced as he could get it, "that Count Chrome-Dome had his second in command try to turn him into some kind of living super weapon!" he looked at her, now certain that he had her undivided attention. "That Errol was the person pulling the switch and laughing the whole freaking time Jak got turned into a guinea pig!"

Keira felt, in that instant, her anger towards Jak depart, replaced by sorrow and the image of Dark Eco and blood running down the length of a runed blade. Almost as quickly, that sorrow was replaced by a burning rage towards the elf she was currently trying to get information out of. Yes, she'd catch flak for it, and a lot of it for that mater, but it didn't matter to her in that instant. For in that moment in time, that she vowed the next time he dropped by, Errol was getting an Eco bolt right between the eyes.

Wait…no…on second thought, she would shoot him in certain other location first, wait approximately three or four seconds to ensure registration of the pain, and, then, put an Eco bolt right between his eyes.

"Also, about how he acted in the forest," Daxter continued, yanking her away from her thoughts of vengeance and back to reality, "well, he's scared, Keira."

"What do you mean?" she asked, not understanding.

"He's scared of what he's become," the Ottsel answered, his voice quiet, "of what he might do. He's also afraid that Praxis and Errol might come after you if they knew…you know."

"I can take care of myself." she said defensively.

"You proved that quite well, I might add." the former elf stated, recalling how she turned several dozen Metal Heads into meaty giblets with her RPG launcher. "All I'm saying though," he paused looking her dead in the eyes yet again, "is to give Jak some time, he'll come around, even if I have to try and beat some sense into him myself."

Hearing those words from the Ottsel, and watching him ball up his small fists and start shadow boxing, Keira did something she hadn't done in a long time, she laughed.

* * *

"Well, that was workout." Jak muttered, looking around at the fifty or so Metal Heads that lay dead before him and the others.

"No kidding," Jynx remarked, reloading both submachine guns, "I got half a mind to charge Krew extra for this one, this job definitely merits some hazardous duty pay."

"Let's just get out of here before more of them come back!" Grim said, his head jerking about, trying to peer into the gloom of the sewers.

"I second that motion." his leader concurred, motioning for Jak to take the lead once again.

According to the map they were following, an old fashion ink and paper one this time, their objective was approximately two hundred and fifty meters down the corridor that they were currently traveling in. And, sure enough, about a minute later, the slightly larger than life-size statue finally came into view.

The first thing that struck Jak about it was the detail that had been immaculately put into it. Granted, there were a few chips and dings in it, no doubt from its wild ride when the sewers had been flooded, and some kind of aquatic plant life had been trying to cover some areas. But, other than those minor flaws, which were obviously due to lack of maintenance and proper handling, it was perfect. The founder of Haven City was on one knee, his head bowed as if in prayer, a blade clasped between his hands. The statue seemed to have been carved mostly from obsidian, the color of his armor…armor that Jak recognized from his visions of Damas.

The craftsmanship of the protective gear was unlike anything Jak had ever before seen, and here, before him now, he could examine it better. It was composed, seemingly, of many interconnecting pieces of metal, which appeared to form into some sort of half-breastplate that stopped at the bottom of his sternum, though it did continue downward just a little bit on either side. Similar material composed the upper leg armor, and a pair of shoulder pauldrons, as well as his gauntlets and greaves. Speaking of gauntlets, only now, did he recognize that the sword he clutched was Kitetsu, a perfect stone copy of the blade that he now held. With one exception. There was a strange protrusion coming off of the end of the hilt. It was four sided, flat on one, angled on the others, making it look like some sort of a wedge, and it looked as if it would have been about two and a half inches long on the real thing…puzzling.

The king's head, on the other hand, was devoid of any form of covering, and unlike the rest of the statue, made from a brilliantly white marble. He was clean-shaven, with his hair coming down to his shoulders, and his eyes were closed.

"Hey, pretty boy," came Jynx's voice, and Jak turned to look at the mercenary, who was currently taking what explosives were left out of his pack, as a many had been used to help clear the paths they had taken, "make yourself useful and grab that key on his belt."

For the first time, Jak looked down, and there, hanging from the statue's waist, attached by an ornate metal chain, was the key that Krew had referred to. It was made of some sort of gold metal, with what appeared to be an enormous ruby stuck in one end of it. Holstering his magnum, he took hold of the key, and used his blade to quickly cut it loose.

"Alright, now get clear." Jynx said, shooing him away as he finished with his explosives. "Sorry to do this to you, Mar, but I think you'll understand." he added quietly.

Jak, who finally seemed to realize Jynx was about to do to the statue, but had enough sense to back away from the statue, quickly retreated over to Sig and the other two mercenaries. The armored enforcer held out his hand, and Jak handed over the key, before turning back to watch Jynx at work.

"What's going on?" he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Krew's decided he wants to see if the ole bedtime stories about the 'Heart of Mar' are true." Jynx said, having apparently over heard him, but hadn't bothered to look up from his work. "So he wants us to crack this thing open and see if we find anything."

Jak couldn't explain it, but something, like a vibe or something, struck him at that moment, almost like it was an insult directed at him somehow. Somewhat puzzled, he opted to keep his mouth shut, and looked around, making certain that there weren't any Metal Heads that were going to try and ambush them yet again.

"Alright, plug your ears, cause this is going to be a big one." Jynx replied, an odd excitement making its way into his voice as he prepped the detonator.

The elf then got up, and jogged back over to the others, before setting off what was left of his explosives. It was indeed loud, and the dark elf shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of the incessant ringing. Once he had succeeded in doing that, he walked over to the statues remains, feeling oddly sad at its destruction, and beheld something he'd never thought he'd see again.

For a brief instant, his mind again flashed back to the Rift-Rider, and he recalled the object, the gem, that he'd pushed, that had set everything that had happened up to this day in motion.

And here it was, lying upon the floor of a sewer passage, untouched and unharmed by the blast, as if mocking him.

Just as suddenly, it was scooped up by Jynx, who tossed it over to Sig. The Wastelander caught it easily, tucking it away safely in the same pouch that held the key.

That accomplished, they drew their weapons, and headed back the way they came.

* * *

At last, they reached the manhole where they'd dropped in those many hours ago. Jynx and his crew were going up first but Jak had to know something that had been bugging him. He had to know about the mysterious elf.

"Jynx, one moment." he said as Mog began to climb the ladder.

"Yeah, what is it, pretty boy?" the mercenary inquired, turning around to face him.

"What were you before you became a merc?" the former Channeler asked.

"What makes you think I was anything before I became a mercenary?" Jynx responded, rather quickly to, in fact, probably a little too quickly.

"Take the point, hostiles at nine o'clock, suppression fire." Jak said, cocking an eyebrow at the other elf. "You don't talk like a homegrown mercenary, you've had military training, Special Forces, I'd wager."

"I was never in the K.G." he said with a shake of his head, before crossing his arms. "And what in the world makes you think I'm Special Forces material?"

"That." Jak said, and pointed to the DC-17 on to his left hip.

"What about it?" Jynx responded with a nonchalant shrug.

"That's a DC-17, a Special Forces submachine gun." he elaborated, a smug look on his face.

"Ever heard of a little wonder called the black market, blondie?" the mercenary shot back, glaring.

"Somehow I doubt you got that on the black market," Jak said, chuckling slightly, "I know that those guns were only made for a little while. Praxis' commandos use either MP-7s or CM-15s, because even though they aren't as good they're cheaper to produce." He paused and looked the other elf in his eyes. "If you had enough credits to buy one of those guns, never mind if you actually managed to stumble across one, I seriously doubt you'd be in the mercenary business. More likely you'd be in some fancy apartment in the middle of downtown Haven."

"Perhaps I simply like my line of work." Jynx growled, in tone indicating that the conversation was over.

However, as he turned his back on the dark elf, Jak played his trump card.

"My mistake then," he said, holding his hands up, "I just thought, perhaps for a moment, if Forty Two wasn't the only one left."

That, got a reaction.

Jynx paused in mid step, and his two compadres exchanged looks with each other, not knowing what to say. Slowly, he turned around, and there was a glare in his eyes, but also, what almost looked like a gleam of hope.

"What was that." the merc asked, his tone deadly serious.

"Nothing much," the former Channeler said with a shrug, "I just thought an acquaintance of mine might have been wrong in his belief that he was the last of his brotherhood. But I guess, that maybe Torn is alone in his little world."

"Torn's still alive?" Jynx said before he could stop himself, as that bit of info had practically blown him off his feet.

"What in the world is going on here?" Sig asked, eying the mercenary suspiciously.

In reply, Jynx pulled down his bandana, exposing his face for the first time. Slowly, almost dramatically, he reached up to his cheek, and dug his fingernail into the skin. Then, quite rapidly, he yanked away, and peeled off what appeared to be some sort of cosmetic pseudo-skin.

Jak could only smile triumphantly as the mysterious soldier repeated the process, baring a strange series of blue tattoos that no doubt covered his forehead as well, tattoos, identical to those Torn had on his own visage. They were the marks of an elite group of soldiers, that everyone thought dead…the marks of a Delta.

"So you are Delta Sixty Seven…what are the odds." Jak mused as the now unmasked soldier walked up to him.

"Details, spill, now!" he growled

They were details that Jak did indeed spill.

* * *

"My gods." Jynx breathed, leaning against the wall of the sewer, heedless of the gunk growing upon it.

"So you've been hiding this whole time as a merc?" Sig said, his glare somewhat accusing, which Jak did find to be rather strange.

"In case you haven't taken a look around lately," the Ex-Delta remarked, gesturing around their location, "Praxis has a iron grip on this city, walking around in broad daylights with these," he pointed to his tattoos, "would be a death sentence for me."

"What I can't understand," Jak muttered, looking at the elf in question, "is how you're still alive. From what Torn told me, you sealed yourself off in one of the palace corridors to try and hold of Praxis' advancing forces."

"Yeah, well, I did manage to survive." Jynx replied quietly, staring at the ground.

"So basically, you ran off like a coward and left your buddies, and what was left of the royal family to die?" Sig remarked with a strange tone of bitterness and anger.

The change is Jynx's body language was so swift and sudden that the dark elf suddenly wondered if he wasn't staring at a different person. Whereas before, he had been seemingly struggling to hold himself up, now, he seemed to be full of renewed strength. Slowly, the Ex-Delta looked up, and stared at the Wastelander, his eyes burning with raw anger, a hatred that the rest of his body also seemed to radiate.

**_Uh-oh_**

Jak was quick to agree with his alter-ego, and realized that Jynx seemed ready to kill. Slowly, the elf detached himself from the wall, and walked over to where the armored enforcer was, his steps measured and deliberate. Soon enough, though, he was toe to toe with Sig. It was rather humorous, in a strange way, as Sig was close to seven feet in height, while Jynx was more likely about five foot eight, and thus to see him getting up in the Wastelander's face would no doubt had Jak laughing if the situation was not so serious.

"What did you call me?" Jynx growled, his breathing heavy.

"You heard me." Sig replied in a similar tone.

Sig, however, had made a mistake. He was a Wastelander, and that in itself meant that he was far better than the average rank and file trooper. He had also heard tales of the Deltas, but had believed them to be only a little better than the rest of the weaklings in the Haven Military. However, he was about to learn that hearing about what the Deltas could do, and finding oneself the target of those skills, were two entirely different matters.

Jynx was a blur as he moved. He brought his kneecap up, smashing it into an area of Sig's lower chest that wasn't covered by his armor sections, driving the breath from the larger elf's lungs. At the same time, he swung his right hand out, and slammed the hand that held Peace Maker into the sewer wall, applying pressure to a certain area that resulted in Sig dropping his rifle. At the same time, the armored elf found his head driven back up rather forcefully, and realized that the object responsible for it was cold and metallic.

Jynx had his DC-17 planted squarely under the Wastelander's chin, his finger on the trigger, and the look in his eye told everyone that he was more than capable of squeezing it. One false move, and Sig's brains would be splattered everywhere.

"Listen, you piece of drek," the Ex-Delta snarled, "I held my position against impossible odds. I fought those traitorous bastards that joined Praxis," he drove the gun higher, digging it into flesh, "I held them off till I didn't have anything left to shoot with! Then I tossed my last couple of flash-bangs, ducked into a tiny maintenance shaft, and tried to make my way back to the Throne Room from there. But by then it was too late, and so I bugged out. Bravery is commendable, but there is no honor in throwing your life away."

Jynx then paused, and took a deep breath, as if trying to calm himself.

"But then," he said glaring up at Sig, "honor is a concept you desert dwelling scumbags aren't familiar with! You don't know what its like to go off and fight with people you consider family, and then have them and the people you were supposed to protect taken away from by someone you looked up to!" And Jak saw an unmistakable flash of pain go through the Ex-Delta's eyes, before the rage returned again. "And so I started fighting back! Just about every credit that we earn helps us wage a little three man war on the Baron." He suddenly turned to look at his two comrades who both nodded their heads, and then he looked at Jak. "Next time you see him, ask your 'Shadow', if there haven't been a few sabotaged Eco haulers that your group wasn't responsible for, if there haven't been some Hellcats that have had 'malfunctions' that you didn't cause."

He paused again, and looked back to Sig, finally seemingly to calm down slightly.

"So let's get one thing straight, Wastelander," he spat, "if you ever, _ever, _call me a coward again, I'll pump you so full of holes that your own mother won't recognize what's left of your corpse! Understand me?"

Sig nodded, knowing that this merc held his life in his hands. Jynx took his submachine gun away from the enforcer's head, and then drove his knee into Sig again, this time with enough force that the Wastelander fell down to his hands and knees, coughing his lungs out.

Wordlessly, he turned, and began to head towards the ladder that led up from where they were. Grim and Mog went up first, the elder brother before the younger, and then he clasped the ladder. However, as he did so, he looked back at the dark elf, the rage in his eyes gone, instead replaced by gratitude.

"Hey, Jak," he said, his voice quiet once again, "thanks…thanks for letting me know."

And with that he was gone, up the ladder and off to wherever he and the other two stayed.

All the while, the Ex-Delta's thoughts seemed to utter one phrase over and over again.

_What do I do now?_

* * *

Keira, Tess, and Daxter had been chatting amongst each other, most of the topic dealing with the identity of the Shadow, and due to Keira's subsequent reaction, a lengthy tale that left Tess' eyes practically falling out of her head. Not more than a few minutes after they finished, a beeping sound began to emanate from a comm. unit that the mechanic had strapped to her hip. She quickly pulled it out and brought it up.

"Keira here." she said, wondering what could have been so important at this hour of the day.

"It's Torn, head to the main square of the town, where Praxis has that statue of himself set up, and be armed." the voice of the Underground soldier crackled.

"What's so urgent?" she asked.

"We've found the Tomb." Torn replied, before the comm. went dead.

* * *

&

* * *

Okay, I think I'll stop it right there. Once more, I apologize if the confrontation between Jynx and Sig made either of them OOC, or if the rapid jump forward irritated anyone. I'm not sure when I'll be able to get the next chapter out, as I'm going to be taking a radically different approach to the Mar's Tomb thing, and I'm really don't have all the details iron out yet.

At any rate, I hope you enjoyed this installment despite any problems it probably had, and please feel free to leave me any comments, be they criticisms, advice or ideas (which are especially welcome), or even an outright flame.

Thank you all for your time, and I hope you have a great day.


	21. Facing the Mirror

(Emerges from around a corner, sporting riot gear)

Hello every, good to see you again. I swear to the heavens that I've never been more nervous about posting a chapter since the first time I put one up. Sorry, just really stressed about how this one turned out, as I'm not sure about its quality, yes, yes I know big surprise in that department.

At any rate, enough about my inability to write halfway decently.

To those of you who have been so kind and have reviewed.

**MariaShadow- **Glad you liked the last chapter, and the reunion between Jynx and his old C.O. will happen starting in the next chapter, hopefully you'll enjoy how the pyromaniac will make his appearance.

**ChibiSess- **I'm actually not sure how you spell his name, I've seen both variations, so I guess it doesn't matter. On another note, I don't know about Sig hugging his poopsie bear, but dear God that makes for a funny mental image. Also, I hope you enjoy your trip, and that you mind this chapter to be good enough to have looked forward to. And about Daxter, I don't think I'll be turning him back into an elf, but towards the end of this chapter, you'll find that I've given the first of his kind something that gives them a bit of an edge in battle. On a final note, if you think D.J. is kicking arse now, I will simply tell you that you ain't seen nothing yet. (cackles fiendishly and rubs hands together)

**Exardas- **Thanks for the review, and I'm glad that you liked the chapter. About your own story, I read that review, and while I must say I do think you need to give a little more background, that its pretty good other than that. In regards to the whole wand deal, if you read any of R.A. Salvatore's works, specifically his second book, there is an instance in there in which a wizardess attempted to parry one of the main character's mundane, un-enchanted broadsword with a wand...and needless to say, the sword won that contest. At any rate, hope you enjoy this chapter, and good luck in your own writings.

**Shakai- **I'm happy that you liked the little twist I've put on our pyromaniac, as I've never really seen a story that gave him a decent back-story, and he strikes me as the person with a lot of untapped potential. Also, in the next installment, he's going to go and show just how mean he can be when he wants to (hopefully it'll be done in a funny sort of way).

**Light-Eco-Sage-** Thanks for letting me know your thoughts on the armor idea, though I can tell you that the gun will not be making an appearance, sadly, and that he won't be donning it until the sequel. Also, about Daxter apologizing, the funny thing is that Jak didn't even know he was there, and the dark elf is still thinking himself a threat to Keira and to everything else around him, though hopefully, I've managed to get them to patch things back up in this chapter in a realistic way. (crosses fingers and prays feverously). At any rate, my problems aside, thanks for your time and best of luck to you as well.

**Xeno-Freak-** Glad that you liked the last chapter, and thank you for your input. And, to answer your question about Jak, I can say that with the exception of the merged super being, you're on the right track, and actually, towards the end of this chapter, you'll see a bit of a hint as to what's going to happen. Also, I'm going to try and get the next chapter out as quickly as I can, as the one after that is when D.J. 'evolves' and all hell breaks lose for the K.G. stuck in the nearby vicinity.

**Lunatic Pandora1- **Thanks for your input, and I'm pleased that you liked the chapter. As for D.J., he makes a very minute appearance in this one, if you want to get technical, and he'll play a much bigger role in a couple of chapters to come. As for Jynx and Torn meeting up, that begins with he next one, when things take a downswing for the Underground, and our lost Delta takes matters into his own hands.

**animedragongirl- **I'm glad you like what my demented little mind is able to turn out, though I must say that it has some major variations from the story line, which is to say nothign of the sequel that I'm planning on writing...provided I can get all the details ironed out. (crosses fingers). At any rate, hope you like this chapter, as I'm a little anxious to see what people think of it.

**Farr2rich- **I'd always liked the idea of Sig getting the stuffing beaten out of him, and the idea of Jynx being so much smaller than him only adds to the humor factor as far as I am concerned. Hope you update your own story soon, too and best of luck to ya.

To those who read but did not review, I hoped that you liked it, and that I continue to please. (bows)

To the lawyers...oh for the love of Pete why do I have to keep telling you this...I own NOTHING!

(panting) sorry about that.

Red tape aside, please enjoy the next installment.

* * *

&

* * *

Facing the Mirror

While they had to be alert and dodge a couple of patrols, Keira, Tess, and Daxter were still able to reach the square within half an hour, not bad at all, as far as the mechanic was concerned. The area was devoid of K.G. for the moment, and peering around, she could make out shapes in one of the small streets that ran between the businesses of this sector of the city. Motioning for Tess to follow, she quickly jogged over to where the others were, and was surprised to see both Torn, and most of all, someone who appeared to be her father.

However, Daxter had gone into great detail about her adoptive old man's apparent amnesia, and thus she decided that trying to make him remember her here and now would not be a good idea.

There were a few other resistance soldiers present as well, not to mention Alex, who had the elderly Kor holding him close.

"Glad you could make it." Torn growled, seemingly on edge about something.

"Got here as fast as we could." She said softly, before looking around at the square. "What are we waiting for?"

"One more person that Onin said we needed to have if we wanted things to go right." Torn told her.

"You know," came a sudden voice from the rear of the street, "I'm really getting tired of that old lady telling me to do things without telling me why I need to do em."

Everyone turned, as saw Jak making his way up the street, his dark trench coat helping him to blend in with the night.

"So what exactly is going on?" he asked, his voice just above a whisper.

"You remember those artifacts that Onin sent you out to get?" Torn inquired, getting him a nod from the dark elf, who remembered that little quest all too well. "She finally figured out how to make em work, and they revealed the location of Mar's Tomb."

"Great." Jak muttered, knowing that this could mean both victory for the resistance, and vengeance for him. "So where is it?"

"Right there." Torn said, gesturing to the large stone base upon which Praxis had erected a statue of himself. "Right under our noses the whole time."

However, at that time, the Shadow held up his hands, to call for silence, and then motioned for them to move it. Quickly and quietly, they crossed the street, thankful beyond words for the lack of Krimzon Guard patrols in the area. Upon reaching the other side, Samos began to scour the stone structure, apparently looking for something.

While he was doing that, the soldiers had spread themselves out, their weapons up, and were on guard for anything. After all, with what lay buried below, and the power that it supposedly held, they could afford no chances. Were the Underground to claim it, it would spell the end of Praxis' tyrannical rule. But if the Baron and his forces were to somehow get their hands on it…

And thus, did Torn once again succeed in living up to his name. His mind kept replaying the conversation he had had with Errol in that alley those weeks ago. His not so subtle threat, and his blackmailing of the Ex-Delta into cooperation. He had sworn to protect Alex at any cost, and the child had started looking to him almost as if he were some kind of big brother to him. And, for one awful second, he actually considered not doing what he'd been told.

However, his mind was quickly filled with the consequences of such an action, and the thought of Ashelin being gunned down from behind, because of him, was too much for the soldier to bear. After all she had done to help them out…help him out, he couldn't just go and turn his back on her like that.

And so, making certain that no one was looking, he reached down into his pocket, and pulled out that homing device that he'd been given by the Baron's sociopathic right hand. Quietly activating it, he let it fall to the ground.

_May Haven's children forgive me._ He thought to himself.

Not a minute after he'd done that, there was a slight grinding sound, and two parts of the stone foundation slide away from each other, revealing a strange looking elevator. Silently as the night itself, the resistance members fell back and piled aboard, forming a protective barrier around their leader and the prince, their guns still trained upon the outside area.

Quietly, a pair of metal doors hissed shut, cutting them off from the outside, and plunging them into darkness, before quickly descending downward into the depths of the earth.

* * *

After a couple of minutes of rocketing downward at breakneck speed, there was a 'ding' sound from the lift, and another set of doors opened up on the opposite side. Stepping out, they entered a large stone chamber, with the only thing worth noting being a large entranceway flanked by two enormous statues of elven guards, clad in armor that seemed to be from medieval times.

"Amazing," Keira breathed, her eyes roaming around, "we must be more than a mile underground."

"And yet," Jak replied, his voice distant as he sniffed the air, "the air is fresh, not stale."

"There must be some connection to the surface somewhere, or something of that nature." Kor mused, speaking for the first time, before suddenly clutching his chest in pain and groaning softly.

"You okay?" the dark elf inquired, turning to face him, cocking an eyebrow as he did so.

"Just an old injury that this battered body never wanted to heal." the old elf said, waving off some assistance that Keira was about to offer. "It happens from time to time when you get to be my age. But enough of this, we're wasting time."

"Agreed." The Shadow said. "We need to get the Precursor Stone, its power should give us the edge we need to bring the Baron down."

And so, they walked towards the entranceway, stopping only when the 'eyes' of the statues lit up with a strange fire, and a haunting voice filled the chamber.

"Halt." they said in unison. "We sense among you those with the gift, those of the chosen bloodlines that may enter into this place."

As they spoke, the doors opened, but the darkness beyond revealed nothing of the next chamber. Gently, The Shadow laid his hands upon Alexander, and told him to be brave. It wasn't much help, as the lad knew that there would be some rather intense trials for him ahead. Daxter certainly did not help things when he decided to put his own two credits in.

"Yeah, kid, what's there to be worried about? I mean it's only…" he trailed off as he considered the possibilities, "only a dark creepy tomb sure to be filled to the brim with painful death." he gulped, before adding, his voice very much subdued. "I wouldn't go in there."

Nonetheless, the child seemed to master his fear, and took a few steps towards these apparent guardians.

"No, this one is too young." they said almost immediately. "He will never survive the trials ahead."

And with that, the door began to shut. Swearing, Jak shot forward, his enhanced speed giving him an edge that he needed in this race. Not a second after him, Keira too, bolted, and was just a few steps behind him. Still, the door did not cease its decent, and while the dark elf may have made it past without having to do much more than lean forward to a great degree, Keira was forced to slide underneath.

"Hey, didn't you guys remember the sure to be filled to the brim with painful death part?" Daxter exclaimed, chasing after them, and unfortunately enough for him, getting close enough that Keira was able to grab him and yank him through a mere instant before the door slammed shut.

The others simply stood where they were, blinking, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

"Good heavens!" the Shadow exclaimed, after some time.

That pretty much summed up the situation.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the other side of the barrier, Keira stood up, ignoring the glare of death that she was receiving from the Ottsel who had gotten dragged into this bit of tomb raiding, and the strange prickling feeling in the back of her skull.

"Do you have any idea how close you came to making me two dimensional?" Daxter screeched, hopping up and down.

The aqua haired mechanic, however, was paying more attention to the trench coat sporting elf in front of her, who kept his magnum out straight, and had Kitetsu ready in his right hand. The dark elf took a tentative step forward, his gaze and weapons roaming around, his glowing eyes trying to pierce the shadows of the chamber.

"Jak," she inquired, putting aside her feelings for the moment, "what's wrong?"

"Can't you feel it?" he replied, answering her question with one of his own, before he clarified what he meant. "We're not alone in here."

"You are alert and on guard," came a sudden voice from the shadows, and the former Channeler's weapons were pointed at the speaker before the words were even finished, "but that alone will not save you."

"Show yourself." Jak growled, something about the voice putting him on edge, something about it that was hauntingly familiar.

"As you wish, but I do ask that you put your gun away, as it will not do you much good here." the person said, and then stepped forward.

His warning was to go unheeded, as Jak, Keira, and Daxter all stood stunned for one terrified second, before the two elves leveled their ranged weapons and opened fire, while Daxter stuttered and mumbled incoherently, not that he could be heard over the racket his friends were making.

The Ottsel's first thought had been, '_oh dear Precursors, it's him!_' His second, '_how the heck can he be here when he's dead?_' And yet, that second fact was seemingly disputed by the reality that he had indeed just stepped out of the shadows. Daxter didn't understand. How could this be possible? How? He'd watched from Jak's shoulder as his friend had unleashed the energy burst that had sealed his fate, he'd watched that crazy old freak die!

And now he stood, as dreary and evil looking as he had ever been right down to the strange clothes and red gauntlet fused to his right hand, with bolts of Eco passing through him as if he didn't exist.

"Would you please stop firing?" Gol Akaron inquired, crossing his arms over his chest and looking somewhat irritated. "I am not your enemy and all you are succeeding in doing is destroying some rather old architecture!"

The twin streams of blaster fire ceased, though both elves remained on their guard, wary of the Dark Sage, and no doubt also entertaining ideas of how he'd managed to escape death.

"I apologize if my appearance has thrown you into a 'kill on sight' mode of thinking," Gol stated calmly, "but this form was chosen for two purposes, the first of which was to get your attention, and I seemed to have succeeded in that."

"If you're not Gol, then just who the hell are you?" Jak inquired, his tone cautious, though he did put away his pistol, as it obviously wasn't going to hurt this thing.

"You may call me Sentinel, if you must have a title for me, and for lack of a better term, I am a computer program born from Precursor technology and I am using holographic modules to interact with you." the 'Dark Sage' said. "I peered through your memories, and chose to manifest myself to you in this form, for, as I stated, several reasons."

"You were inside our minds?" Jak said, unable to believe what this thing was telling him.

"You'd be surprised at the level of technology that the Ancients held." it said, smirking slightly as it did so in a manner that most unnervingly reminded the dark elf of his first nemesis. "But, we're not here to talk about the abilities of computer programs, then are we?"

"We're here for the Precursor Stone." Keira said, calming down considerably, having reached a logical conclusion that if this 'computer' or whatever it was had meant them harm, it would have attacked them before starting up a conversation with them.

"Oh, of course you are." Sentinel said, smiling before he continued. "But then, what kind of guard would I be if I were to allow you to simply walk out of here with such a prize without testing you."

"What kind of tests are we talking about?" Jak growled, irritated at the notion of having to please yet another person to get to what was needed.

"Three trials to prove yourself worthy." the computer said, walking towards them. "One shall be a test of skill, another of courage, and a final one, in which you shall have to understand yourself if you wish to succeed." it suddenly stopped and its tone became deadly serious. "I will not lie to you, Channeler, failure in these tests will mean your death, and your two comrades will not be able to assist you."

"Why is that?" Keira inquired, suddenly nervous.

"Because, you are not the one who needs to be tested, not yet anyway." it replied.

Jak remained silent, but raised his eyebrow in a way that the Precursor computer knew exactly what the elf wanted to know.

"Tell me, Dark One," Sentinel inquired, crossing its arms again, and giving him a gaze that seemed to pierce into his very soul, "if you manage to acquire the Stone, for what purpose do you intend to use it?"

"To destroy Praxis." he said, his voice having that infamous rage boiling just beneath the surface, and clenching his left hand into a fist.

"Exactly!" Sentinel replied, snapping its fingers. "You seek to overthrow him, but you do not do it for the greater good, but for your own selfish vendetta. You are walking down a path that will lead only to your own destruction." the computer said, shaking its head sadly. "That was another reason I chose this form," it spread his arms slightly, "to show you what you're going to wind up becoming if you don't change."

"And how am I supposed to do that?" Jak asked, irritation present again in his voice.

"Wouldn't be much of a trial if I told you how to win, now then would it?" Sentinel shot back, before turning back around and walking off, clasping its arms behind its back.

As it did so, lights suddenly came on and revealed the chamber that they were in. To say the least, it was massive, and whereas the outside of it had apparently been made of stone, the inside appeared to be crafted of metal. An 'honor guard' of enormous elven statues lined a central pathway, and to the left and right there were what appeared to be large pools of water, reflecting a myriad of colors.

"The honor that the elves held for Mar was great." Sentinel said suddenly, gesturing around with one arm. "After all, it was he that united them when they were scattered, brought them together to battle a common menace…it was he that saved them."

The hologram fell silent then, as he reached the end of this grand chamber. With a gesture, the large metal door at the end of it opened up, and he motioned for the trio to come inside. They hastened to obey, with Jak in the lead, and Daxter coming up behind Keira, who kept staring around at the technological marvels present here.

The next room was dark, but Jak, with his enhanced vision, thought he could see what appeared to be more statues, these ones about the size of the average elf, rather than the forty foot behemoths in the grand entrance.

Sentinel suddenly stopped, and pivoted around. At the same time, a strange, wavering barrier appeared between Jak and his companions, and all looked to the hologram, demanding an explanation.

"This is where it begins, Jak." the program stated, as the lights came on, revealing the room to be circular and about fifty feet around, and holding about eight of the statues tucked away into alcoves.

With a flash of light, Sentinel vanished, and the dark elf brought Kitetsu out, but kept his magnum holstered, somehow knowing that his blaster would do him little good against what he would face. It was a wise decision on his part, as moments later, there was a strange humming sound, and three of the metallic statues suddenly had a light come into their eyes, and stepped out into the main part of the room. Keira and Daxter could now see that they bore both sword and shield, and approached Jak from three different angles. The dark elf steadied his breathing, and flipped Kitetsu around once, getting himself into an Ataru attack position.

As one, these construct warriors attacked him, one coming in from behind and making a swipe for his head, while another chopped downward, and the third one thrust its blade straight out. Their weapons hit naught but air, as the former Channeler had vaulted straight up, coming down behind the one in front of him, and bringing Kitetsu up in a vicious upper-cut style attack. The machine whirled with speed a normal elf could never hope to match, and managed to get its shield down in time to intercept the attack. Nonetheless, Jak's vampire-like strength, and Kitetsu's unusual construction, helped it to bite into the protective gear, and score a slight hit upon its thigh despite everything. Wires sparked as the machine spun around fully, its comrades also moving to flank him again.

However, Jak was far from stupid, and leaped into the air once again, repeating the maneuver he had used to decapitate that Crab Head back in Haven Forest. Still, the machines had a large variety of offensive and defensive protocols at their disposal, and its own blade intercepted the dark katana, though it took some damage in doing so.

Keira hated what was happening, watching him fight these things, and her being unable to help. She tested the barrier between her and the elf she held so close, but found it to be as solid as a rock wall. Despite her worries, though, Jak seemed to be holding his own against these things, suddenly jumping up and planting his feet into one of them, the one he had damaged earlier, causing it to stumble backwards and lose its footing.

There was an unearthly clang as it hit the floor, and the dark elf rolled underneath a strike from another one, quickly rising to his feet as the robotic soldier tried to regain its footing. However, a runed blade hit it right where its neck was, cutting through wires and circuitry and causing the thing to collapse.

Jak spun his dark blade around once more, slowly moving about the room, a pace that his machina adversaries matched. Without warning, he leaped at one of them, and the two weapons, katana and broadsword, clashed for several seconds, neither being able to penetrate the other's defenses. However, after a few exchanged blows, the dark elf got an idea, and suddenly brought his weapon down in a two handed slash angled right for the thinnest part of the broadsword, and cut right through it. However, before he could capitalize upon his newfound advantage, the mechanical warrior brought its shield back, and smacked him across the chest with it, sending him flying right at its comrade, who held its blade straight out to skewer the elf.

He heard both Daxter and Keira cry out, and he snarled in defiance, twisting about in midair, despite the agony it cause him, as the blow from the robotic soldier had cracked a few ribs. He brought Kitetsu around, swatting away the machine's blade as he plowed into it, taking them both to the ground.

Jak was the faster one to recover, and stabbed it through the chest, right where the heart would be on a real elf. Apparently, these robotic copies had a similar anatomy, as it twitched a few times, and then the light in its eyes died away.

Two down, one to go.

The dark elf got back up, measuring up his last foe as he felt his ribs repair themselves. The last machine had hot tailed it over to the fallen remains of the first robotic soldier, and retrieved its weapon, before assuming a ready stance. Jak smirked, knowing that this one would be no match for him alone.

And indeed, that was the case, as he shot forward, and locked blades with his final opponent. The two weapons grated harshly against each other, until the former Channeler suddenly twisted Kitetsu about, flipping it to where it was inside the defenses of his adversary, and then neatly cutting off its hand at the wrist. He then ducked beneath its shield as it tried to clobber him with it, before separating that from the rest of its body as well. Now it was utterly defenseless, and Jak quickly reversed his stroke, cutting it in half vertically.

As the two halves fell backwards, wires sputtering, Sentinel reappeared, and dispelled the barrier separating Keira and Daxter from Jak and itself.

"Is that the best you can do?" the former Channeler inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"To one who has been fighting as long as you have," the hologram replied, conceding the point, "and possessing your skills, it is true that this would not be much of a challenge for you." He paused as the other two joined then, turning around as they did so. "However, I think you will find you next trial to be a little more…taxing…"

It then began walking off, opening the next door with a flick of its wrist. They followed, and found themselves in another hallway, much like the first, though somewhat smaller.

"I don't understand." Keira said, looking about at everything. "How did the elves build this with the technology they had available six hundred years ago?"

"They had help." Sentinel replied, looking back over its shoulder at them. "Someone taught them the use of advanced technology, told them how to go beyond the simple weapons that they had at the time." It suddenly narrowed its eyes, looking at all of them. "You know who, the legends and tales speak of him."

"The Praetor." Keira breathed, suddenly understanding. "I thought he was just a myth."

"He is no myth, young elf." the computer replied, a mysterious smile appearing on his face.

"You said, 'is'," Jak suddenly remarked, his own eyes boring into the hologram, "implying present tense…" he trailed off.

"Yes, Dark One." Sentinel responded, turning back to face the way he was walking. "He is still alive, despite everything."

"And just how is that?" Keira asked, her voice one of disbelief.

"He is different from the rest of his kind," the computer said, "the result of an experiment...just like you."

Before they could ask anymore, they arrived at the next door. As usual, the hologram gestured, and it opened, revealing a black abyss inside. The program then turned back to them, and with a nod to the room, spoke.

"Within here you shall find your courage tested, Dark One." He said.

His coat swishing about him, he stepped through the doorway, followed by the other three. As soon as they were in, the door hissed shut behind them, but this time, no barrier appeared to separate the dark elf from his friends. The reason became apparent soon enough as light was shed upon their situation.

They stood in what appeared to be Haven City, in a nondescript area of the residential section. Jak stiffened instantly, recognizing this place. So, this was to be what would test the mettle of his courage…well then, let the trial commence, as far as he was concerned. He only wished that his friends were not present to see this.

"Care to turn back?" Sentinel asked, looking at him.

It got a glare in response, and taking that for a no, disappeared again.

"Why do I get that sinking feeling that we've been here before?" Daxter muttered after it'd left, speaking for the first time in a good long while.

"Because we have." Jak said, putting his blade away, and crossing his arms, his eyes growing cold.

Daxter went to ask what he meant, as did Keira, but both were suddenly cut off by a shrieking sound that was normally associated with a missile a couple of seconds before impact. The aqua haired elf looked confused, not understanding what was going on, while the Ottsel, on the other hand, felt his eyes reach the size of a dinner plate, and let his mouth flop open.

"No, freaking, way!" he said when he found his voice an instant later.

The dark elf remained silent, not heeding his friend, as he watched the scene unfold from two perspectives, the one he was in now, and his own memories. Not two seconds later, something fell from the sky, hitting the ground and breaking apart, sending those inside flying. Jak watched as a three year younger version of himself and Daxter 'oofed' and 'umped' their way to a less than graceful landing.

"Uuuuhh," Daxter muttered, getting to his feet and shaking his head. "That's the absolute, last, time, that I touch, any stupid Precursor crap!"

Jak got to his feet a couple of seconds later, blood dripping from many places on his lacerated body. Without emotion, his older counterpart watched the crimson liquid, untainted by darkness, fall from himself. His younger self's sense of wonder outweighing the pain he felt from his injuries, and the boy stared around in awe at the city, with its enormous buildings and apparently miraculous technology.

However, it wasn't more than five minutes before a K.G. patrol, led by Errol himself, walked into the area. The Commander pointed towards the pair, who were alone, as most of the people had fled when they'd crashed. Quickly and efficiently, the patrol surrounded him. Daxter, not surprisingly, made himself scare from the area, but was ignored by the guards.

"Forget the rat." Errol snarled. "We've got what we need." he then looked down at Jak, a twisted grin making itself manifest upon his face. "We've been waiting for you, boy."

A second later, the guard standing behind Jak cracked the boy across the head with the butt of his rifle, and, already in pain from his wounds, he crumpled to the ground.

"How could you just leave him like that?" Keira snarled, looking down upon Daxter with a glare that would have scared the living daylights out of the majority of the population.

"It's a good thing he did." Jak said, not bothering to turn around. "If he'd stayed, he'd have been in the brig right alongside me…and I'd either be dead, if I was lucky, or strapped down to a lab table if I wasn't."

As the words left his mouth, the scene before them changed, revealing the lab area that had been set up, specially meant for housing those unfortunate enough to be selected for this variety of experimentation. And once more, he saw his own suffers from a different point of view. He was strapped down to the lab table, still struggling, despite the fact that, if he remembered this particular treatment correctly, he'd already been there for a month.

"Our experiments have indeed confirmed what we were told, Baron Praxis." Errol said, holding a datapad and apparently reading something. "This little runt's a Channeler alright."

"Then you've increased the dosage?" The Baron asked, looking at his second in command with his good eye.

"Yes Sir." the sociopath stated.

"Then what are you waiting for?" Praxis growled. "Begin the injection cycles!"

Errol walked over to the computer console responsible for the experimentation. He then pulled the switch, that fiendish smile ever present upon his face. Seconds later, the purple lighting that Jak was all, too, familiar with sprang from the machinery around him, and pulsed into the young boy.

Keira, and the diminutive rodent next to her both fought back tears as they watched him struggle, pulling at his bonds with all his might, trying desperately to free himself. A scream tore its way from the young boy's throat, tearing at the heart of another elf that was present. The mechanic snarled inwardly, vowing that if she, ever, got the chance, that she'd thrown Errol into that blasted machine and she just how much he liked it!

For hours, it seemed to go on, these visions, showing torture after torture, treatment after treatment. They watched as Jak was taken back to his cells countless times, only to have the guards beat him, using fists, rifles, knives, and things that would have made most sick to their stomach, and indeed Daxter did retch at one point. Errol was the worst. Bringing to bear a wide and disgusting variety of 'interrogation techniques,' most of which revolved around the use of a switch blade that he seemed to hold quite dear.

But it was not limited to methods such as that. After his healing factor was discovered, Keira watched as Jak was shocked, burned, had limbs broken, ribs cracked, the list went on. She looked over to him as he stood slightly in front of her, his arms at his sides, his fists clenched, as he relived three nearly two and a half years of sheer hell.

One vision, out of them all, surprised Jak. It started as most did, a treatment, and him later being thrown into a cell for Errol to come by and have some fun with. But this time, things turned out a little differently.

As the guards restrained him while their superior prepared his instruments, he suddenly flipped up into the air, and threw both of them off of him. And then, a feral light in his eye, he lunged at his tormentor, his teeth bared and a snarl that seemed so out of character coming from him. Jak felt somewhat surprised as he watched himself bear the Krimzon Guard Commander to the ground, his teeth latching onto the other elf's neck. The reason being that he had no memory of that event.

And then he realized why.

_**He hurt us…hurt you… I had to make him pay…make him suffer!**_

Struggling desperately, Errol managed to get his switchblade out, and jabbed it in up to its handle in the other elf's side, getting another snarl, but doing little else apparently, though none could miss Jak's now quite unique blood begin seep out from around the wound.

Unfortunately, before any lasting harm could be inflicted, one of the guards managed to get back up, and promptly gave the struggling young boy a ten thousand volt surprise. Jak crumpled, and Errol rolled him off of him, clutching his neck, which was bleeding rather profusely. One guard remained in the cell, ready in case its occupant should reawaken, while the other hastened to get his commander some first aid.

So that was when it had first happened, when his guardian devil had first made its presence known. And, now that he thought back about it, he found it rather strange.

He'd known that there'd been times, after his…interrogations…when'd he'd entered something of a devolved state of mind, something animalistic and primitive. He knew why, as well. Those techniques that Errol had been using to try and break him were working all too well, and he'd come within a hairsbreadth of shattering his very mind. His altered state of being had been a failsafe, one last, desperate bid by his mind to preserve itself, to save him from descending into madness.

Over time, it seemed as though what had started out as a mental defense, had taken on a persona all its own, a split personality, almost, that had become capable of learning, and now, for lack of a better term, that seemed to have almost developed its own soul. For a brief moment, he wondered, then, if despite everything, he hadn't gone mad anyways.

Keira, meanwhile, had her own thoughts. A tear traced its way down her cheek as she watched the things in which he had been subjected to. She watched through these visions, as the boy she'd loved in Sandover, with all of his silent optimism and cheer, was been transformed into the dangerous and deadly fighter than he was this day. But now, watching these, she simply felt grateful that he hadn't turned into some sort of psychotic killing machine, though some would doubtlessly argue different.

Most of all, though, she wondered why.

Why hadn't he ever told them about this, why hadn't he trusted them to help him with this kind of a burden? And, in such times when emotional passions overruled rational thought, she blamed herself for this. Maybe, if she'd just looked harder, if she'd done something different, somehow…maybe she could have spared him from this suffering.

Finally, the horrid images came to an end, courtesy of a diminutive orange rodent that snuck in orchestrated a rescue.

He had stood before them, relived his past, and he never turned away, never flinched, hadn't buckled underneath the pain of watching his own suffering. Apparently, that was what had been needed to pass this test.

Another door opened, and Sentinel once again stood before them.

"Well done, Dark One." The hologram said. "To be forced to relive a past as painful as that one, and to do it willingly, takes more courage than most realize, and far more than many have in their possession."

With that the computer turned, beckoning for them to follow it.

* * *

This time, they were all silent as they passed through the chamber that led to Jak's third and final challenge. The dark elf and his compatriots were all curious as to the nature of this challenge. Thus far, he'd tested his skill in battle, the stoutness of his heart as he'd watched his past, which left the test of spirit, whatever that was supposed to be.

Well, they'd find out soon enough.

After a seeming eternity, they reached the far side and the door to the final trial opened before them.

"And here it lies, Dark One, the final test for you. In here, you shall face the mirror, and in doing so, be either damned, or find your salvation." Sentinel said mysteriously, keeping his back to them again. "I'd wish you luck…but luck will not help you in a trial such as this." He then looked over his shoulder, his eyes boring into Keira. "Remember, this must be done alone."

And then, as before, he vanished, and they entered.

This time, the room appeared as a coliseum, complete with some extensive battle damage.

"I sense yet more violence in our future." Daxter remarked, staring around at the arena.

"The question is," Jak said, drawing Kitetsu and holding it out with a single hand, "who or what am I going up against?"

"The mirror." came a gravelly voice, one that was quiet, but carried within it a power that was almost palpable.

A figure then detached itself from the shadows at one of the far entrances. The person was covered in a heavy black cloak, its cowl down to hide the face. However, there was something about the way in which the being carried itself, that seemed strangely familiar. It reached the middle of the arena, and Jak stepped forward to meet it, another barrier springing up between him and his two friends. The dark elf's eyes tried to pierce the shadows that hid the visage of his soon to be opponent, but could make out naught but shadow.

However, that all changed an instant later, when the figure threw off the cloak, revealing itself.

Jak was surprised, and it showed in his sudden change in posture. Keira, too, was caught off guard, but it was perhaps Daxter who summed the situation up the best.

"What…the…hell?" the Ottsel said, his eyes bulging.

The dark elf recognized the person before him instantly, but for the others, it took a bit of time for it to sink in. The former Channeler stared at himself, only, it was how he would have appeared had he not been 'blessed' with his healing abilities. His copy's hair was matted and unkempt, partially covering a face that was little more than a mass of scars, including a rather nasty looking one where its left eye should have been. Two other marks that stood out were one that ran the width of its neck, possibly explaining the difference in its voice, and the last one being that it only had about half of its right ear. The clone was also naked from the waist up, revealing its chest, that was again, little more than a mass of scar tissue and burn marks covering up the muscle beneath.

"What are you?" Keira asked, apparently loud enough to be heard by the other elf.

"Hatred," it replied with a shrug, "bitterness, contempt. I am, many things."

"And to pass, I have to beat you don't I?" Jak asked, assuming an attack stance.

"Yes," the copy replied, "but you're going to fail, simply because you lack the knowledge of how to defeat me."

"We'll see about that." the former Channeler retorted, a smirk on his face.

In response, the clone drew its own blade, not surprisingly, one identical to the relic that Jak wielded with such a high degree of skill. However, what worried Keira, ever the technical analyzer, was exactly how fast this doppelganger had its katana out. It hadn't appeared to have drawn it, so much as the weapon seemed to have appeared in its hand.

For one single second, the two elves stared at each other, measuring the other up. Once that second passed, the no holds barred fight began.

Jak struck first, lashing out aggressively at his copy, his blade coming in from the right on level with his opponent's neck. Almost lazily, the clone's blade leapt up to intercept his strike, swatting it away. Deciding to go with that momentum, the former Channeler spun around, his coat flaring outward and preventing his foe from seeing exactly where he was going to strike. With blinding speed, he completed his rotation, coming in with a relatively low angle of attack, no doubt hoping to cut his adversary's feet out from underneath him,

Alas, Kitetsu connected with little more than air, as the copy of himself had back flipped out of the way. Snarling quietly, he rushed over to continue his assault, his friends watching all the while. His speed was great, his strength enhanced beyond that of a normal elf, driven by his fury as he was, and his blade came in from all possible ways. Slowly, ever so slowly, he seemed to be driving his opponent back, but somehow, deep within himself, he knew that this doppelganger was only retreating because he wished to, that this disfigured clone was controlling the battle, not he.

It was an ominous theory that was quickly proven to be correct, as his clone intercepted a downward chop that would have split it in half had it connected, and forced Kitetsu down and away to the left, before bringing his right foot up and smashing it into Jak's face. The dark elf staggered backwards, his nose broken, with Dark Eco and blood dripping down his face.

Still, he did his best to ignore the pain, knowing it wouldn't last for long, and concentrated on trying to get back the offensive from his strange adversary. It would not be easy, as now that he had Jak on the defensive, the copy was going to show him what it was capable of.

Keira and Daxter, still watching from behind the barrier, were forced to helplessly observe as the scarred elf went into a flurry of attacks, its blade a blur as it slashed, chopped, and thrust, its momentum apparently unstoppable. Indeed, its opening combos nearly shattered the dark elf's defenses, and Jak found himself desperately parrying and deflecting, unable to get a strategy or anything of that nature going beyond simply trying to keep his opponent from scoring another hit.

But another one did eventually connect, slipping through to drawn a line of Jak's unique blood from his left side all the up past his right collar bone as he tried to leap back to avoid the stroke. Still, even as he hissed in pain, he counted himself lucky, as the damage was not nearly as bad as it could have been had the blow hit home completely.

Snarling once again, he leaped at his otherworldly opponent, bringing the dark katana down from above. His clone, in response, did something unbelievable. It gripped its own sword with two hands, one on the end of the grip, the other upon the end of the blade itself, and held it horizontally, whereupon it actually succeeded in not only blocking Jak's strike, but for lack of a better term, catching the dark elf, and then proceeded to push back, throwing him back up into the air, where he came in for a less than graceful landing nearly twenty feet away.

Immediately, the former Channeler rolled backwards, and jumped back up to his feet, and was scarcely able to avoid being skewered as his clone planted its blade in the ground where he'd been moments before. Even so, he wasn't able to completely avoid a slash that came in at him, catching him along his thigh and cutting nearly to the bone. Practically roaring, he lunged forward, thrusting his blade out for a vicious counterattack, while simultaneously drawing his magnum.

With even greater speed than it had shown before, the doppelganger managed to get out of the way, and lashed out from the side, cutting the morph gun off at the trigger guard. For a moment, Jak looked at the remnants of his gun, before throwing it down with a snarl. His adversary simply smirked, before jumping back and reassuming its combat stance

There was something going on here that Jak simply didn't understand, the more ferociously that he fought, the more powerful this thing seemed to become, whatever in the world it was supposed to be. However, that little bit of thought on his part would prove to be a fatal mistake, as the split second distraction enabled his opponent to get behind him. Realizing the gravity of his error too late to correct it, he felt his feet be knocked out from underneath him via a sweep kick.

As the dark elf began another trip to the ground, his clone finished spinning around, and came up to slam his kneecap into his back hard enough for the vertebrae to shutter from the impact, and it also succeeded in driving the breath from his lungs. His breathing situation did not improve at all when he hit the stone floor, nor did what follow help at all either. For, as his spine had been dealt that crushing blow, he'd lost his grip upon Kitetsu, and his copy had quickly grabbed it out of the air, and then poised it over him for one eternal moment, before plunging it down into his gut.

Pain exploded through him, and it took every ounce of strength he had not to cry out in agony. His scream would not have been alone however, as both Keira and Daxter let out cries of outrage and fear.

The wound wasn't mortal, thanks to his healing factor, but in order for it to heal completely, the blade would have to be removed, something his copy did not seem to be inclined to do. Realizing this, Keira started looking around frantically, desperate to help Jak. And then, curiously enough, she spotted something. The barrier that separated her from the one that she cared for didn't go all the way to the top of the entrance, which when combined with the shape of the area they were in, would allow for her to use her grappling hook to get up in the stands. Flexing her right hand, she proceeded to do just that.

"Uh, Keira, what are you doing?" Daxter asked, practically tugging his fur out in panic.

"Helping him!" She said, testing the grappling line to make sure that it was secure.

"But Sentinel said we weren't supposed to interfere!" the Ottsel exclaimed, torn between wanting to help his friend, and obeying the rules that the computer had set down.

"Damn Sentinel!" was the mechanic's reply, and it had enough of an influence upon the Ottsel that he grabbed a hold of her leg as she reeled herself up into the stands.

Meanwhile, Jak wasn't exactly having the time of his life, as the clone kept twisting his blade back and forth, tearing into him even more. The dark elf could feel in inner demon trying to help him, but for some reason, it was held back, unable to rise to his aid.

"That creature can't help you this time, fool." the doppelganger said, as if it were able to read his mind. "And you were and idiot to think that you could conquer me with your anger, that your hatred could help you to overcome something like me!"

Its ranting was abruptly cut short, though by a 'thunk' sound, and it turned its head to notice what appeared to be a wire stuck in the ground next to it. Somewhat confused, it turned around, and instantly found itself having to duck in order to keep its head attached as Keira nearly kamikazed into it. Nonetheless, though, it did receive a rather impromptu haircut. She hit the ground, shoulder first, and rolled about, losing her helmet and dislodging Daxter in the process, but coming up with her gauntlet vibro-blade out, its resonations distorting the air around it. In response, the clone simply laughed mockingly.

"Well," it replied after a few seconds, apparently amused, "this is an interesting twist on an age old tale, that the damsel comes to save the knight!"

"Leave her…out of this!" Jak gasped, still trying to get two and a half feet of katana out of the floor and his gut.

"If you haven't noticed, she chose to get involved." the doppelganger retorted, rolling its eye, and nodding to her gauntlet weapon. "Come then, little girl, let's see what you can do with that thing."

Keira was only too happy to oblige, lunging forward and striking out. The clone caught her blade easily with its own, and both seemed mildly surprised when one weapon didn't destroy the other. Then, though, the contest of strength began, as both combatants' weapons grated back and forth across each other, each seeking a weakness or something to exploit. After a few seconds, they broke off, circling each other.

Jak meanwhile, had finally managed to get Kitetsu out of his stomach, but was still a little woozy, after all, his copy had done quite a bit of damage. He could hear the sounds of combat coming from where Keira and his copy were duking it out, but it seemed so far away. He couldn't understand…why hadn't he been able to win? What was that thing's secret?

And then, strangely enough, when everything seemed about to come tumbling down, it clicked.

When asked as to what it was, the doppelganger had replied with a listing of emotions. Hatred, bitterness, anger, things like that. It was then that he understood, that thing was a literal physical manifestation of his darker emotions. That was how it kept getting faster, the more he tried to use his anger to overpower it, the stronger it got. Therefore, logically, the only way to defeat it would be to fight it differently.

But how to do that?

Then, he remembered words that came from a certain talking statue.

_As all have hatred within them, so do they possess love. As all have sorrow, so do they have joy. Balance is what you must find, young one._

And so, finally realizing the truth about himself, of his own failings, and helped by a body that had finally managed to patch itself back up, he got to his feet with a grunt.

His clone brought his blade in, and Keira found herself having to leap backwards in order to avoid being disemboweled. At the same time, it was rewarded with a sharp pain in its left leg as Daxter finally put his mouth to good use. However, the rodent's heroic actions did little more than irritate the clone, and get him introduced to pain as a shake of its leg sent him flying into some debris.

As the doppelganger went to resume its fight with Keira, though, it heard something, and spun around, instinctively bringing its katana up to block. In the next instant, twin blades clashed against each other, as the dark elf reentered the battle. His copy appeared somewhat surprised to see him back up, but that flicker of emotion lasted only a split second, before its visage became a twisted snarl once more.

"We always were stubborn." it growled.

Jak simply smiled, and blocked its next stroke, and the one after that too. The clone appeared confused, as if it was now the one unable to understand why it couldn't blast through its opponents defenses. This time, it was the one to growl in frustration, and to press in harder, but to no avail, as while still fiendishly quick, it didn't seem to be able to call upon that blurring motion and lightning fast reflexes that it had before. Screaming, it brought its blade up above its head, hoping to sunder the dark elf in half, only to have it blocked in a similar manner to how it had stopped Jak's jumping attack earlier.

"How?" It roared, its rage becoming nearly all consuming.

"Simple," Jak responded calmly, pushing back against it, "I don't fight in anger any more."

And so it was. No longer did the hatred that had driven him in nearly every battle push him onward. Now, he fought for those other than himself. He fought for Keira and Daxter, who'd always been there when he'd needed them the most, who'd never given up on him, for Alexander, who'd been through things no child should have had to experience. He fought for the Underground, which had struggled for so long against the Baron, for all those who were depending upon him, whether they knew it or not, to succeeded here.

And it was driving his opponent up a wall.

So much so, in fact, that its rage was going too far, consuming it entirely, and it was beginning to lose its concentration, its attacks becoming sloppy. And so, after about another minute or so of exchanged blows, Jak saw an opening, and took it. There was a harsh clang, and the clone's sword flew up into the air. Not hesitating for a single moment, Jak leapt up, and grabbed it.

He landed in front of his astonished double, and lashed out with both blades, forming a neat 'X' on its chest, and following through with a spin kick that sent it flying.

Not surprisingly, its wounds began to heal quickly, but when it looked up, it found the dark elf standing over him, both weapons pointed at its heart.

"Yield." he said.

"So what now?" it snarled. "Are you going to lock me away, never use me again?"

"No," Jak responded, shaking his head but not taking his eyes from the doppelganger, "that wouldn't help much in the long run, either. Balance, is what I need. I will use you, but only when I need to, and I won't let you control my life anymore."

And with that, the clone let out a final snarl, before it, and its blade, vanished. The next thing Jak was aware of was his air supply being cut off due to a certain mechanic gripping him in a fierce embrace. It was followed by her beating him in the chest with a gauntleted fist.

"Jak," Keira began, "if you, ever, scare me like that again…" she trailed off ominously.

In response he simply smiled, a light coming into his eyes that hadn't been there for a long time, the glow that had been present when he'd just been the young boy growing up in Sandover, before all of this stuff had happened. It was something that she was overjoyed to see again. And so, taking advantage of the relative seclusion offered by the strange room, the two of them leaned together, and shared something they hadn't for almost three years.

Daxter, watching from the rubble that he'd finally managed to extricate himself from, was relieved to see his friend alright, and apparently, back to normal, for once, was able to resist the urge to have a sudden outburst and let the two elves have a bit of a private moment with each other.

Once they'd broken apart again, there was the sound of clapping coming from the far entrance. Sentinel walked out, a smile practically splitting his face.

"Well done, Dark One, you finally found your balance, it would seem." the hologram said.

"I don't get it, though," Jak muttered, his hands still intertwined with Keira's, "you said that they weren't…"

"I told them exactly what they needed to hear." it said, cutting Jak off before he could finish his question, and upon seeing their confusion, decided to elaborate. "You'll find out soon enough, Dark One, that life's greatest challenges are rarely meant to be faced alone."

"Does this mean we can get the fancy rock and get out of here?" Daxter asked suddenly, unable to hold his tongue any longer, and crossing his arms over his small chest as he walked up.

"Certainly, follow me." Sentinel replied, motioning for them to come.

* * *

After yet another hallway, the four of them entered a large, hexagonal room, the walls of which seemed to be a massive mural, complete with some brief descriptions in Precursor script.

"Here you see some of the Precursor history, and how it pertains to Haven's creation." their computer guide said, gesturing.

The first depicted a race of beings, clad in robes and headdresses that hid their visages, and who were practically godlike in their technology. However, after a time, a disagreement apparently happened, and they split into two different factions. The Precursors, and the other group, which was referred to only as the 'Fallen Ones.'

The second, showed these beings, now in armor of different colors, as they waged war upon each other. It was nearly impossible to tell who was on which side, as the only difference being that the Precursors appeared to wear armor that was more angular and jagged in appearance, while the Fallen Ones' carried a variety that was smoother and more rounded. One in particular, did catch Jak's eye.

It was covered in black armor, and hovered above the troops fighting on the ground, a few more similarly equipped and floating behind it, though they lacked the helmet ornamentations that this one possessed. Somehow, he knew it was the same one he'd seen in that vision he'd had in Onin's tent, those months ago. However, he saw one thing this time that had somehow escaped his notice before: attached to its right arm, was what appeared to be a slightly curved scythe blade, jagged on both sides, and looking capable of dishing out some serious damage.

The next part of the mural showed victory for the Precursors, and their forces stood behind seven of their ranks as the Fallen One's were banished from the world. One was clad in red armor, another in blue, a third in yellow, one in green, one in white, and the black armored one as well. In front of them, was a Precursor wearing extraordinarily ornate gold and silver armor, who had its hand stuck out in a gesture that was an age old means of telling someone to 'get'.

Strangely enough, though, was one of the Fallen, clad in white, who had his fist up in the air in a gesture of defiance. The white clad Precursor in the group of seven, also appeared somewhat downcast, and the black armored one had his hand upon his shoulder in a comforting manner.

The next scene showed something that the elves couldn't understand, or possibly didn't want to, and so they looked to Sentinel for a little guidance.

"The Ancients triumphed in their civil war, that much is true." It said with a nod. "But the vanquished left behind a terrible legacy in their wake. It was they who created the Hora-quan, the vicious monsters that you know as the Metal Heads." It turned around, staring into their eyes. "They began to attack the Precursors, and they began to conquer them."

"How was that possible?" Keira asked, looking at the hologram to her left. "How could the Metal Heads defeat the Precursors?"

"The same way they defeated you, through sheer numbers." Sentinel said, shaking his head sadly. "Their conflict decimated their ranks, leaving too few to combat this new threat."

The next mural was fairly self explanatory. Soon enough, the elves, apparently at the dawn of their civilization, came under attack as well. Once more, the black armored Precursor was shown, this time locked in combat with none other than the Metal Head Leader. Unfortunately, the battle ended with the Ancient's champion being defeated, and he was depicted as lying on the ground, his body broken, and in several pieces. Somehow though, he survived, as the next mural showed him hovering before an elf.

He appeared as little more than a boy, but his green hair was rather distinctive.

"Yes, the Praetor found Mar." Sentinel said abruptly. "And he realized the power that lay dormant within the boy, the power of his own kind."

The next scene was of Mar being trained by the Ancient, and later, receiving armor and a weapon worthy of a leader. And the Praetor's teachings were not limited to the future king alone. Other elves were found and united, and the Precursor taught them how to construct the first 'modern' ranged weapons. Armed as such, Mar and his people began to make their stand, as the next several scenes depicted a burning village, not to dissimilar to the one that they'd grown up in, with him and his troops standing in-between the rampaging Hora-quan and the fleeing elven civilians.

However, the next mural was the strangest of the lot. Standing in front of the elven warriors, and next to the floating Praetor, was a massive, winged demon, covered in armor. Both of its hands grasped curved blades, and it seemed to be roaring in the faces of an oncoming Metal Head attack, as if daring them to come forth and be slaughtered.

The final scene showed the elven king with his helmet tucked under his arm, gazing out as Haven was constructed. Once more, the Ancient was next to him, though what exactly he was doing wasn't clear. There was something about it though, that surprised all of them. It was Mar's eyes.

They were as green as his hair, but there was something rather…abnormal about them. After all, none of the three could ever recalling seeing another of their kind that had pupils that were more akin to reptilian slits than anything else.

"Did Mar have a thing for strange contacts?" Daxter inquired, cocking an eyebrow up at Sentinel.

"It was a sign of what he was, a trait setting him apart from the rest of his kind." The computer answered enigmatically.

And before they could ask any more of what he meant, the hologram walked forward, and they realized that there was a sarcophagus in here that they hadn't seen, as they'd been so absorbed by the drawings on the walls. It was a plain box, for the most part, with some script on it in both new and old elvish that stated who was buried within it. And there, resting about where the king's heart would have been, was a pulsing green stone. This is what they'd come down here to get, and slowly, almost reverently, Jak stepped forward, and carefully retrieved the gem, placing it within one of the interior pockets of his coat.

There was something else on top of the coffin as well: the dead king's helmet. The trio was somewhat surprised to see it down here, as logic stated that it'd most likely be in a museum of some sort. The craftsmanship of the piece of armor was alien, looking very similar to the head gear apparently worn by Precursor warriors, but it wasn't as elongated as theirs had been. For the most part, it was composed of sharp angles, and it did have what appeared to be some kind of mirrored visor that flared out at sharp angles at the side, before it constricted itself a little more towards the center. The cheekbone region was also quite pronounced, as was the brow, both of which came out about a good inch past where the visor was. Furthermore, there was a curious indentation about even with the forehead, that looked almost as if something could be placed in it. Also notable, were what appeared to be some kind of war braids that were attached to the rear of the helmet, each about a foot to a foot and a half in length, and made from some strange material that not even Keira was familiar with.

"Man, what was it with these guys and dreadlocks?" a certain orange furred rodent remarked, looking at the helmet.

"It was style apparently favored by the Precursor warriors." Sentinel said, gesturing around at the many examples offered by the mural. "They seemed to believe that it made them appear more fearsome."

Jak was going to make a remark about how they really didn't need to style their hair up for that, when the hologram suddenly brought its hands to its forehead, and hissed sharply.

"What's wrong?" Keira asked, looking at it in worry.

"You have to leave, now!" the computer replied, its voice frantic. "The entrance to the tomb has been breached!"

* * *

&

* * *

Okay, before anyone says anything, I know that there were clichés zinging off the wall in this one and that it's not one of the better chapters that I've turned out. I'm really, really sorry about that, but I just couldn't think of anything else. Hopefully, the next chapter will be better...though that's probably not saying a whole lot. (laughs nervously, scratching the back of head)

I also want to apologize for the destruction of Jak's morph gun, rest assured, that I intend to give him something better. Also to those who might be curious, Mar's helmet looks sort of like Scar's from AVP, only it has sharp angles rather than smooth curves, and the obvious little place for something to be put in. Once again, I apologize for not being able to come up with anything more original, so feel free to nail me on that.

At any rate, I brought my riot gear with me today, thank you military surplus, so feel free to hurl any resentments, flames, or things of that nature. Furthermore, if you have constructive criticism, probably plenty of room for that, or ideas (for which I will bow down and worship you), feel free to let me know of them as well.

Thank you for your time, and please have a good day.


	22. Unleashing a Devil

(Appears out of thin air, partially transparent, riot gear full of holes)

Hello again people, and I hope those of you in the states had a happy 4th. As for me, well, coming to you from the great beyond again, once more courtesy of Paska's superior battle skills, Kudos to ya man.

To those of you who have been so kind and reviewed my amateur works.

**Xeno-Freak- **I'm really, really glad that you liked the chapter, I was so worried that people would think that it was dumb and whatnot. I'm also glad that you liked the changes that I made to Mar's armor, as you would think that being as bright as he had to have been, that his gear would be somewhat better than what was likely seen at a Roman Coliseum. Also, not sure what you meant by EVAish when you referred to Errol's death, but, let's just say that it will be quite...umm...shocking, as opposed to his quick, merciful, and relatively painless death in the second and third game.

**MariaShadow-** Was a little nervous about rewriting those challenges myself, but I had to turn Jak back away from his self destructive course, and truth be told, I don't think I'd have been able to write it like it happened in the actual game. As for Jynx, he makes his triumphant comeback in this chapter, hopefully you like it.

**Animedragongirl- **I'm glad that corny was all you thought it was, I was fearing reviews containing words like abysmal, and a couple of death threats, truth be told. I hope that this chapter comes out a little better, though. (crosses fingers and prays)

**Exardas- **Congratz on getting your own copy, and yes, I did find the battle with Kor to be a little less challenging than what I was expecting. However, with a bit of luck, the showdown in my own tale will be something a little more shall we say...epic? Best of luck to you in your own writings.

**LunaticPandora1- **Hmmm, interesting mental image, though his claws might make him well suited to picking up CDs, lol. Also, Mar's armor is more closer resembling that of a Predators, but, at the same time, their gear is sorta similar to the elven stuff from LOTR, though it'll hopefully do a better job. That's one thing I've noticed in these medieval war movies, the armor, no matter how cool looking or well forged, never seems to do its job very well when it comes to protecting the individual wearing it. Wonder why? Also, about the helmet, our favorite little dark elf won't don it until he gets the rest of the armor in the Jak 3 sequel that I'm trying to iron out.

**Shakai- **glad that you liked the showdown, and I happy you didn't think that I was being too clichéd with the whole doppelganger idea (wipes brow in relief). And about Jak and Keira, you didn't think that I was going to keep em separated forever did ya? Hope you like this chapter too, and that once again, it isn't too corny.

**Every Heart Bleeds**- You are giving me way too much credit, my friend. I doubt I'd ever be able to write a novel, because I have trouble thinking up backgrounds and back stories. Also, as Paska does a good job pointing out, I have trouble thinking up original ideas from time to time, which by that I mean every other chapter, and I have the bad habit of taking things from other universes and whatnot. Still, I do hope you enjoy the story, and thanks for taking the time to review.

**Farr2rich- **Glad you liked the chapter, and feel free to continue with your own story and have Jak redeem himself there, if you already thought of the idea, then you're not taking it from me. As for your own story, I hope that you update it soon, as I'm really eager to find out about the first game. On another note, I feel the need to warn you that Jak will not be the one who will be losing his arm, but that your idea will be used. Best of luck to ya in your own works, and thanks for the review.

**Paska- **Nice shot with bazooka, though the AK was a bit of overkill. Once again, you've managed to confuse me in the Halo department, though knowing my luck, it means that I'm probably unconsciously drawing ideas form that universe, in which case it's definitely time for a memory wipe. As far as the DC-17 is concerned, it's a weapon from the Star Wars universe. It's a high powered, high rate of fire special forces particle blaster, very much sought after by mercs for its ease of use and overall superiority to most other automatic fire weapons. And about the Metal Heads, there were fives elves, one cannot forget Grim and Mog, and Sig Peace Maker would be capable of nuking quite a few, while Jynx is an ex black ops soldier. About the Metal Heads in general, they always reminded me of the Zerg from Starcraft, who typically use numerical superiority to simply run all over their enemies. This means they run into problems when they encounter elite enemy units, specifically when they are dug in or in confined spaces that require them to bunch up. Still, thank you very much for your input once again, (bows politely) and rest assured that Jak's 'replacement weapons' will not come from Halo. In fact, they will not even be guns.

To all who read but did not review, I pray that I have not upset you in any way with my lack of talent.

At the same time, Lawyers, read the disclaimers in previous chapters, you will see that nothing has changed.

That done, here is the next chapter, where things go downhill for our heroes.

* * *

&

* * *

Unleashing a Devil

The three of them simply stared at each other for a few seconds, before, as one, they bolted, heading back for the entrance as fast as they could.

Sentinel wasn't idle either, as the computer sent out command codes to the tombs defenders. Granted, three of them had been dismantled in Jak's test, but hopefully the remaining five would be able to deal with the intruders.

* * *

Once more clad in his mechanical armor, Praxis marched at the head of the commando formation, Errol at his side. He would have never dreamed that things could have gone as smoothly as they had, considering all that could have gone wrong with this scheme. First, by sheer luck they'd managed to stumble across a meeting between his daughter and that ex-Delta, Torn. Next, Errol had gotten the message of what they knew across to him with out getting shot, stabbed, or maimed in any other way or fashion. Then, Torn had actually gone through on his part, falling victim to one of the oldest weaknesses in the book. Now, to top it off, from the sounds of things, Jak might have just gone ahead and gone to the trouble of getting the Stone for them.

However, he suddenly felt a strange prickling sensation in the back of his skull, and he stared around, getting that soldier's sixth sense that they were being watched. Seconds later, his gut instinct would be proven correct, but not in a way that he would have ever thought possible.

Hovering and wraithlike, she appeared before him, causing ever single soldier to stop in their tracks, unable to comprehend what was going on. Praxis shook his head, wondering for a moment if all the stress of the past few months had suddenly caused some part of his brain to break, and he was now having a hallucination.

The floating image of his sister stuck her hand out, and then spoke in a powerful voice.

"Be gone from here, usurper, you are far from welcome in this sacred place!" she snarled, and gestured to a door behind her. It opened, and out charged five mechanical constructs, their eyes glowing eerily.

Without hesitation, they rushed the commandos, who promptly returned fire. However, armored as they were, the Eco bolts did far less damage than they could have, and the first few were cut down with relative ease.

One came at the Baron, who threw down his rifle and drew his sword, catching his opponent's as it came in to try and cut him in half at the waist. He spun then, and tried to get it in the head with a kick, but it brought its shield up in time to block, though there was a nice, boot shaped impression left in it after that particular move. It also had the added effect of throwing the machina construct off balance, opening up a rather large hole in its defenses. Quickly taking advantage of this, Praxis thrust his blade forward, felt resistance as it pierced the metal armor of his foe, and then twisted, tearing open a massive hole in the machine.

As it fell, wires sparking and emitting some kind of electronic death cry, he looked about. There were only three of them left, as a well placed grenade from Errol had gotten another one, but almost a dozen of his best men lay in pools of their own blood at the hands of these robotic warriors.

And then, to top things off, the very weapon he'd tried to create came charging out of the door these things had, the blade of Mar cocked back behind him. There was also another elf with him, clad in some kind of light ballistics armor, and that strange little rat that always seemed to be hanging out with him. The dark elf's eyes rested upon him, and he knew, in that instant, that if he didn't play his trump card, everything was going to head down the crapper.

He ripped a comm. unit from his belt, and held it up for all to see.

"Enough of this!" he shouted, his voice one of someone holding all the cards.

For an instant, the fighting did indeed cease, and everyone and everything looked at him. The tyrant smiled grimly, and stared straight at the trio, making certain that they saw what he was holding.

"Now that I have your attention, Jak," he said, his voice calmer now, "I'm going to ask once, very nicely, for you to fork over the Precursor Stone and surrender yourselves."

"And if we refuse?" Jak snarled, knowing all to well what fate probably awaited him in the event of capture.

"Then I give a command, and a certain six year old heir to the throne will soon find himself with his dearly departed parents!" Praxis retorted, a smirk on his face.

Not an hour ago, the dark elf would have tried his luck anyway, probably damning them all. Now though, no longer consumed by the hatred that had driven him for so long, he knew he couldn't do it, couldn't risk that happening. And so, he released his grip upon Kitetsu, and let the blade hit the ground. He then reached into his pocket and withdrew the Stone, placing it next to the blade. The Baron nodded for Keira to do the same, and she gently placed her morph gun to the ground, which was followed by her gauntlets. Then, the trio backed away from their weapons.

Errol and a few commandos stepped forward to retrieve them, not wanting to take any chances. However, the Commander had an unnerving gleam in his eyes when he looked at Keira, realizing that this girl had played him the whole time. His face twisted into a snarl as he pondered the full possibilities of her connections to the resistance, and of what she could have provided them with. He kept his mouth shut in regards to her for the moment, but swore to himself that she'd pay dearly for what she had done. No one double crossed him…no one.

Sentinel watched all the while, utterly helpless to intervene. Its programming forbade it from taking a course of action that could bring harm to one of Mar's lineage, unless of course, they were in the trials. Unfortunately, its logic processors were also going haywire, as due to its calculations, a course of inaction would result in an ninety five percent chance of Mar's descendant coming to harm anyway. What this caused was a paradoxal programming conflict that nearly sent it into a computer equivalent of a nervous breakdown. The end result was for it to shut down all nonessential functions, and to retreat back to its central processing hub in an attempt to stop the chain reaction before any permanent damage occurred.

This caused the robotic guards to cease functioning, and the hologram faded. Still, even as it was attempting to salvage what parts of itself that it could, it was able to keep a single observation camera pinned on the confrontation, and watched the event unfold.

Errol turned to face Jak, that sadistic glint returning to his eye.

"I'm so glad you're coming back with us, Eco Freak," he said, smiling evilly, "we've got something special planned for you now."

He snapped his fingers, and a yellow armored soldier stepped in, delivering a blow to the back of the former Channeler's head that caused a sickening crack. However, while the blow drove him to his knees, he was still conscious. Another such attack put him down on his hands, but he still stared up in defiance at his nemesis, until a third finally put him down for the count.

Smirking, he motioned for the man to cart the dark elf off, while another stepped forward to handcuff Keira. Once more, images played through his mind, and he wondered what he could do to pay her back for her treachery. However, he did not miss the burning hatred that had sprung into her eyes when he'd order Jak rendered docile for transport. He concluded that she'd been a very good actor to have fooled the likes of him for so long, and she'd certainly have a lot of fight in her. That was so much the better, he liked it when they struggled.

And so, they marched out, Daxter at gunpoint, as they didn't make restraints in his size.

Still attempting to repair itself, Sentinel paused for a single cycle, a thought running through its circuits.

_Is this what you meant, Praetor Tarath, when you said that we would have to fail in order to succeed?_

* * *

For the most part, everything in the entryway was secure, except for that old elf practically begging for them not to rip away his walking stick. Finally, the Commander snapped.

"Let him keep the damn staff!" he shouted to the commandos. "But, if he gives you one ounce of trouble, I want you to take that thing and beat him over the head with it until it breaks!"

"His head or his staff, Sir?" one of them inquired with a chuckle.

"Does it look like I care which one?" Errol roared, throwing his hands into the air. "Let's just get out of here and back to the base before that freak wakes back up!"

Snickering, the two commandos encouraged the elderly Kor to keep moving by prodding him with the business ends of their guns. Muttering under his breath, the elf complied, but he vowed that when the time was right, that he'd show them just what this 'feeble old elf' was capable of doing.

And so, in three shifts, everyone was back up on the elevator, and out on the surface, where the sun indicated that it was late afternoon.

* * *

The constant tormenting of a certain ex-Delta left little to the imagination as to who had sold them out, and for a while, Keira had entertained some various fantasies of some rather intensive harm to him. But, once the remark had been made by Praxis as to why he had done what he'd done, earning the tyrant a death glare from the tattooed soldier, she'd let it go, opting to figure out how they were going to get out of this one.

It was then that something happened that set into motion events that would wind up changing a great many things. There was a feeble grunt, and looking back, the aqua haired elf saw one of the commandos shove Kor to the ground. However, as he went to try and get back up, as they hadn't bothered with handcuffs, thinking him incapable of being much of a threat, he went and proved them wrong.

The soldier on his left didn't even have time to cry out in surprise as Kor, who looked to the world as if he was pushing eighty five, suddenly leapt up and spun around, brining the knotted end of his walking staff into the elf's face, effectively bashing it in. As his comrade stood there, his brain trying to process what had just happened, he too was given a first hand introduction to the impromptu, and apparently quite lethal, weapon.

Finally, the commandos began to react, leveling their weapons at the old elf. However, Kor once again proved that there was apparently a whole lot more to him than what met the eyes, as he preformed a vaulting jump, complete with a full forward flip, that planted him right next to Alex's personal captors. Before the men could react, they joined their comrades in the after life, and the old elf had scooped the young prince up, and bolted into an alley way, miraculously dodging blaster fire until he managed to slip around the corner.

Errol went to make a command for them to follow, but Praxis overruled him with a gesture.

"But…" the K.G. Commander stated, before being cut off again before he could argue his case.

"My nephew is no longer needed, Errol, and he's no longer anything even vaguely resembling a threat." Praxis said with a shake of his head. "There's no need to waste resources sending people out to find him again. Right now, we need to get back to the Fortress and prepare for our next move."

And thus, with that little interruption out of the way, they once again began an orderly march towards the prison area.

What no one noticed, in the confusion that Kor had caused, was that a certain foot and a half tall rodent had taken this opportunity to make himself scarce.

And now, watching them move out of sight from the safety of the shadows, Daxter pondered his next move. He couldn't just abandon the Underground, not that he now knew exactly what Errol was capable of doing. With shudder at the thought of Jak being back in that psychopath's clutches, not to mention Keira and Tess, he headed for one place where he knew he might be able to find some help.

* * *

Delta Sixty Seven sat in his room, which was little more than a large closet in the slum apartment that he, Grim, and Mog somehow managed to get enough rent to keep. True, they got paid rather handsomely for their work, but like he'd told Jak, most of it went to fighting the Baron.

For him, it was simply a case of avenging his own failure. For Grim and Mog, he knew the conflict was very similar. There had once been a sister that had rounded out the group, but she had made her public views rather clear on then General Praxis' little power seize. Shortly thereafter, she and her entire family had disappeared, never to be seen again.

Things had happened from there, they'd met up with him, and the little trio had begun to wage their own little war against Haven's despot leader.

Right now, Jynx was cleaning his equipment, as a trip through the sewers could result in some rather bad things happening to a weapon that could result in a Murphy's Law style mishap at the worst possible moment.

That was, until he heard Grim's voice from the living room.

"Hey, Jynx, you might wanna take a look at this!"

Carefully, almost reverently placing down his DC-17, the Delta got up and walked out. What he saw surprised him. There, on the small vid-screen that had come with the apartment, was the image of a procession being led through down-town Haven City, with subtitles screaming about how the Underground resistance movement had been captured, and how things would finally become safe for the average, ordinary citizen again.

He almost breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that while the captured group was large, that it couldn't possibly have been all of them. However, that sigh was caught in his throat when he took a second look and saw someone near the head of the procession, no less than eight elite guards having their weapons trained upon him.

The tattoos, the brown, dreadlocked hair, it was him. For a moment, he was torn between shouting for joy, at the notion that his squad leader was indeed still alive and well, and screaming in rage at the image of Praxis lining him up in front of a firing squad.

In the end, he did neither, and simply let the anger manifest itself in his eyes, something that both of his comrades saw. After a few seconds of this, he did an about face, and went back into his room, leaving Grim and Mog to exchange a glance with each other.

Once back inside, he hurriedly went through prepping his weapons, checking to make certain that they were in full working order. All the while, thoughts burned through his head. For less than a day, he'd been overjoyed at the thought that he might no longer be alone, that one member of his family might have survived the coup, and now, the very same man threatened to take it away from him yet again.

It would not happen like that, he vowed. He would not leave his C.O. to rot inside that gods forsaken prison, or to be executed at the whim of that traitor.

It was about an hour later, once he'd made certain that his weapons were in immaculate condition, that he stood, and turned around. Next to his cot, was a strange, cloth covered object. Grabbing said cloth, the pyromaniac ripped it away, to reveal the gleaming gray and orange of his old Katarn Mark One battle gear. He'd long since gotten the armor cleaned up and rid it of the carbon scoring on it where enemy fire had hit, but, he'd never had the heart to put it back on, not after his failure.

Tonight, though, Praxis would learn first hand that he'd missed, not one, but two of the elite soldiers.

And so, with solemn purpose, the Delta got out of his civilian outfit, and began suiting up for the first time in more than three and half years.

* * *

Once he'd finally accomplished getting it back on, and found with a slight bit of pride that it was no tighter than it had been previously, and gotten used to moving in it again, he walked out, his DC-17, with an attached suppressor, in his left hand, and his helmet under his right. It was now right at sundown, and time for him to go into action.

The two brothers, still watching the nonstop news coverage of the Baron's 'victory' over the rebels, gave him a look, followed by a quick double take. Jynx looked at them grimly, remembering just how intimidating the Deltas had appeared when in view of the general public.

"Boss?" the mercenary asked, somewhat confused.

"I've got a brother in arms to bail out." Jynx said, his voice deadly serious. "It'll be risky at best, and I want you to do something for me, okay?"

Grim nodded, not sure what it would entail.

"If I don't establish contact with you guys within two days, I want you to assume that I'm dead or captured, and get the hell out of here." Jynx ordered, praying that this wouldn't be the last time that he saw his friends. "And look after Mog, will ya, make sure he stays out of trouble."

Grim nodded, choking up, wanting to help, but knowing deep down that this was something their leader was going to have to do on his own, then the mercenary threw his arms around his friend, and was soon joined by his brother. They pulled away after that, and Jynx put his helmet on and sealed his suit.

In that instant, Jynx the mercenary ceased to be, and Jynx the Delta rose from the ashes. Giving his buddies a sharp salute, Delta Sixty Seven pivoted about, and went out the window onto the fire escape, where he began to navigate his way through the run down slums.

* * *

Daxter arrived at the Hip-Hog, panting, sweating, and generally never having felt so exhausted in his entire life. As usual, his small size had been a two edged sword, helping him to hide and remain beneath the notice of many, but at the same time, it made trying to run from one end of the massive city to the other sheer hell. It also meant that he had to wait until someone decided to enter the sleazy pub for him to be able to get in, as his weight was insufficient to set off the trigger device that would open the door.

Finally, once that happened, he scampered into the back before someone noticed him. Daxter let out a silent prayer of thanks to whoever might have been listening once he got into the back, and found Sig cleaning his weapons.

Needless to say, the Ottsel's breathing gave his presence away to the Wastelander almost instantly, however, he was a little confused as to what the diminutive rodent was doing here, and for that matter, what he was doing here without his larger partner. It was a question that he gave voice to a few seconds later.

Over the next twenty minutes, Daxter gave a rundown of what had happened, and set a new world record for speed talking. Sig remained silent, leaving the former elf to practically hop up and down as he waited for the armored elf to come to his decision.

And what a decision it was. The enforcer knew that what Daxter was asking for him to do was something only the slightest bit short of suicide, and yet, despite what Jynx had said down in the sewers, he knew of honor and loyalty. Plus, not only was a good buddy of his about to be turned back into a lab rat, but if what the little rodent was saying was true, then it meant that some of these people had what he'd been looking for. It was that, more than anything, that caused him to come to his final decision.

"Okay, fur ball, count me in." He said, enthusiastic, even if he felt certain that he was about to walk into the jaws of Death. "One Sig styled get out of jail free card, coming up!"

With that, the Wastelander grabbed Peace Maker and some supplies, and walked out, Daxter right on his heels.

* * *

They'd been led into one of the brigs, now modified to have a lab table set up in it, just so they could all watch and hear what was about to happen to one member of their group. That had been a couple of hours ago, and they'd kept Jak in solitary, while Keira found herself in a cell with Tess, Torn, and the Shadow. Ashelin had been in there already, having been put into the cell the very moment that Torn had triggered the homing beacon.

Praxis' daughter had seen the look on his face when the Underground commander had been placed in, the commandos keeping their weapons on him at all times, taking no chances. After all, many of these soldiers had served during the coup, and they doubtless knew what he was capable of doing, given half a chance. Nonetheless, Torn looked…defeated…as if all the things that had happened to him had once more come crashing down upon his shoulders.

He'd sold out his comrades, betrayed just about any hope of them ever overthrowing her father, and probably gotten himself lined up for execution…and all because of her…because she'd gotten careless, because she'd messed up.

What she didn't realize, was that he felt the same way.

"You should really stop being so hard on yourself, Torn." came a voice from the rear of the cell, and everyone looked and gasped, particularly the Shadow.

After all, it wasn't everyday you suddenly came face to face with someone who looked exactly like you other than the fact that that person was about a good twenty or so years older.

Keira stood stunned, seeing her beloved old man for the first time in three years. He was a bit thin, probably due to the prison food not being anything worth noting, but right down to the log through his unkempt hair, and the strange wooden shoes that he was ever so fond of, he was the same. Snapping out of her revere, she bolted forward, and embraced him, forgetting about the entire situation for the moment.

"I've missed you too, Keira." he said, the usual harshness in his voice gone for once.

And then, he broke away from his daughter's embrace, and made his way over to Torn, whose eyes, like just about everyone else present, were darting back and forth between the Shadow and this apparently aged copy of him.

"Don't worry about what you did, son," he said, placing a hand upon the ex-Delta's shoulder, "things will turn out alright, trust me."

From there, they had fallen back into silence, with Keira worrying over Jak, Tess worrying about Daxter, and Ashelin doing her best to try and help Torn out. Samos meanwhile, resigned himself to waiting. He knew what was going to happen here, in the next few hours…he wouldn't enjoy it, but he knew that it was something that would have to be done.

Jak…why had fate chosen him for this? Why was he the one who would have to go through so much?

His thoughts were cut short abruptly as the cell door opened, and Errol walked in, flanked by two commandos, with more standing outside. The Commander had a partially completed morph gun clutched in his hand. Keira cursed to herself mentally, knowing that that was one that she'd been in the process of constructing in her hidden workstation.

"Well, well, my dear," he said, glaring at her evilly, "it seems your aptitude for the mechanical goes beyond zoomers. I must admit I was rather surprised to find out that you were the source behind these accursed weapons." he paused dramatically, his eyes roaming over the blaster. "Though, truth be told, we are a little bit curious as to how these things work."

"Bite me!" she snarled, which resulted in a smirk forming upon the Commander's face.

"Careful," he said, sticking out a finger in a scolding manner, "or I'll do worse than that."

He then motioned for his two escorts to grab her, as he'd decided it would be best if she watched what happened to that freak of nature that she seemed to care about so dearly. However, as they turned to leave, the elder Samos suddenly stepped forward, his expression one of barely controlled anger.

"You're dealing with a power you cannot possibly hope to understand," he said, his voice once again harsh, "and I sincerely hope, Errol, for the sake of your conscience, provided that you have one, that none of the men you have stationed in here have families."

The Commander simply rolled his eyes, and turned about, slamming the door as he did so.

"Why did you say that?" Ashelin inquired, looking down upon him with the expression of utmost bafflement.

"Simple, young lady," Samos said, his tone grim, and filled with a commanding power, "before this day is out…they will all be dead."

They were left stunned and silent, as most believed nothing short of divine intervention was going to get them out of this jam.

Meanwhile, down on the ground floor of the cell block, the dark elf was being escorted out to where he could see a lab table that he was all too familiar with. He forced himself to repress a shudder, and his inner demon let out a slight gulp. Prodded forward by the guards, he stepped towards it, his eyes sweeping around the three tiered room. For a single instant, both the elf and his guardian devil considered switching places, but as Jak looked about, and saw just how many elites were standing around, he knew that healing powers or not, he'd be dead well before he could deal with all of them.

He also noticed Keira being led down towards his level, making the going as difficult as she possibly could. He resisted the urge to smile upon seeing her grind her heel into Errol's instep when the opportunity presented itself. However, they finally got down, and the Krimzon Guard Commander smiled fiendishly when he arrived, before breaking into some rehearsed theatrics.

"Well, let's get this show on the road, shall we?" he began, clapping his hands together a few times, and the commandos released the dark elf from his restraints, and forcefully put him on the table. "With the Precursor Stone now in our possession, the Baron has decided that we no longer have need of you." He said, in mock sadness, before perking up. "But, me being the patron of science that I am," he got a snort from both the Keira and Jak, "I've decided to satisfy a certain curiosity that I've had for a while."

"And that would be?" Jak said, knowing it was what he wanted to hear, but not wanting to have to put up with his crap any more than he had to.

"We're going to see just how much of this stuff you can take." His nemesis responded with a wicked chuckle.

Jak, despite his impending knowledge that what was going to happen was likely enough going to hurt, and quite a bit at that, still felt somewhat annoyed, and had no trouble telling Errol about it.

"I've been out of this place for more than six months," he said incredulously, "and this is the most creative thing you could think up, finishing what you started? Frankly, I'm rather insulted."

Errol, quite obviously put off by Jak's flippant attitude and the insult, went red in the face, and turned to head over to the command consol that would start the whole procedure. However, before he did, the one of the brig doors opened up, and the Baron himself walked in, Kitetsu held in his grasp.

"Commander, before you begin," he said, a strange tone in his voice that none of them could ever recall hearing, "I would like ask our friend here something."

Errol nodded, clearly upset at the notion of having to put his entertainment on hold, but not daring to disobey his superior, and stepped away from the controls. The baron walked forward, and drew the blade from its sheath, his one eye roaming over its masterful craftsmanship, from its deadly cutting edge down to the Precursor runes set into the blade.

"Tell me, Jak," he asked, staring up at the elf, "how did you manage to find this? When did you go to the Metal Head Nest?"

"Who said anything about me going to their home turf?" the dark elf replied, having seemingly resigned himself to what was about to happen to him. "I found it in Dead Town, buried in some rubble."

"Don't lie to me!" Praxis snarled instantly, his breathing ragged in his fury. "Damas fell covering our retreat at the Nest, and while I don't doubt that this thing has some strange secrets hidden in it, I don't think the ability to grow legs and walk is on that list!"

"I don't have a clue how it got there, tin head," the former Channeler replied, irritated, "I just know that's where I found it."

Praxis stared at him hard, but found that he could not see a lie within the elf's glowing blue orbs. A sudden shudder coming over him, he placed both blade and sheath down upon the consol, and suddenly turned and left, leaving Jak a little confused. It was bafflement that was shared by a good many others.

However, their thoughts were soon returned to the tyrant's sadistic right hand, as He launched into another small speech, and then promptly pressed the big red button.

Jak thought that he had prepared himself mentally, that he'd learned to block out the pain. However, Errol hadn't been kidding when he'd said that this was a literal test of just how much abuse a Channeler's body could take, and the agony surged through him as though every nerve in his body was suddenly on fire.

It took every ounce of inner strength that he'd had, not to scream, not to give his nemesis that sick pleasure.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the slum side of the Fortress, a large Wastelander moved as silently as he could through the night, an orange rodent doing his best to get used to sitting upon his armored pauldrons. Daxter had done his best to direct Sig back to where he'd snuck in those months before to bail Jak out, and thus far it had been a successful venture, that, and the K.G. patrols seemed noticeably lax, almost sloppy, during their rounds, no doubt due to them thinking that their victory over the resistance was now assured.

As much as that superiority might have grated upon Daxter's nerves, at this point, he'd take any help he could get.

And so, eventually, they arrived at the place where he'd snuck in. Sure enough, he could still see the busted grating that he'd used. For Sig, it'd be a bit of a tight fit, but he was certain that the Wastelander could squeeze through. There was one problem though.

This time, there were a pair of guards stationed right next to it. They were just regulars, and were chatting, but their eyes were still fixed upon the varying entryways to their location. Sig ducked down behind some garbage cans, contemplating his options. While a blast from Peace Maker, or his regular rifle mode, would definitely be able to take them down, it would create quite a bit of racket, something he didn't want this early in this already dicey plan of his. So, for the moment, he had little choice about what else to do other than to sit tight, and listen.

As it seemed invariably, the subject of the two sentries' conversation eventually turned towards the subject of food. Apparently, from what both the Wastelander and the Ottsel could understand, the army chow wasn't all that great.

"Man, I tell ya, I could do some serious damage to a steak right about…"

The guard never finished his sentence, and Sig thought he heard what sounded like a cough come from above his current position. It was swiftly followed by a second one, and then he heard the sound of someone hitting the ground. He looked up over the waste cans, and saw both of them lying upon the dura-crete, apparently dead.

"Rule thirty nine," came a voice from above, "never pull sentry duty in a remote location on an empty stomach."

Slowly, both Sig and Daxter looked up.

They were just in time to watch Jynx leap down from a second story fire escape, landing almost without a sound. Sig was stunned. He'd never even heard the soldier move, something that he considered rather astounding considering that the elf was now incased in a tin suit. For a moment, the all three of them simply stared at each other, and the tension was thick enough to probably have been cut with a knife. Finally, Jynx went and broke the silence.

"Look," he began, his voice distorted slightly by his speakers, "you know I don't like you very much, and I'm pretty certain that the feeling's mutual. But, right now, I got a brother in arms to save, and while I'm not sure what brings you out here, I think we'd be better off working together."

For the longest time, Sig remained silent, before he extended his hand, a gesture that Jynx accepted.

"I'm inclined to agree with you," the large Wastelander said, "and as for why I'm out here, well, call me a patriot."

They couldn't see it, but Jynx raised an eyebrow inside of his helmet, though didn't press the matter, they had more important things to attend to at the moment.

"Let me take the point," Jynx said, moving ahead up to the damaged vent, "I've got suppressed weapons."

And so, the two put their animosities aside for the moment, and, as they and several others were about to learn, made quite the formidable team.

* * *

There were six of them inside the small station, responsible for monitoring the status of the men out on patrol in the large prison. Frankly though, it was about the most boring job one could have pulled, as, with the exception of a notable few, no one had ever managed to bust out of this place.

Unfortunately, they were about to discover that there was no such standard for breaking _into _the prison, and that, most unfortunately, the boring part of their job description was also about to come a grinding and abrupt halt.

One of them, noticing that the patrols in the southwestern area hadn't reported in like they were supposed to, turn his head to bring it to his superior's attention, while others chattered amongst themselves. The very next second, there was a strange crack, and the door slid open of its own accord. Or so they thought.

A gray and orange clad thing suddenly rolled in, before unfurling and rising up. There was a split second of disbelief that went among them all, before they reached for their blasters. Sadly for them, though, that split second delay had been a key thing to Jynx's entry plan, and in the next instant, five muffled coughs filled the room, and just as many troopers slumped at their stations, either shot through the heart, or now having their grey matter on the floor. Only one remained, and out of panic, reached for an alarm button.

Before his hand had even gotten over it, Delta Sixty Seven had both of his submachine guns pointed at him.

"Don't, even, think about it!" he growled, walking forward and allowing Sig to enter behind him.

The Wastelander eased the door shut, reminding himself to ask the grey armored soldier in front of him the recipe for those handy little homemade door charges. He also made sure to keep his rifle pointed dead on the enemy, making certain that no funny or stupid ideas made their way into the guard's head. Jynx meanwhile, had gone over to the main computer controls, and was currently attempting to find out where Torn and the others had been placed, praying to every single deity that they weren't spread out all over the prison like he would have had them.

Unfortunately, he kept running into blocks, and other anti-intrusion protocols that had him practically wanting to blast the accursed thing.

"I wish Rachel was here." he said, hanging his head at the memory of his friend, "Computer hacking was her area of expertise."

However, while he may have found himself incapable of cracking Praxis' encryptions, he suddenly thought of a way that might not require such methods at all.

"Time for aggressive negotiations, I think." He mused to himself, turning to face the surviving guard. "Access code, now!" he snarled.

In response, the guard, who seemed to have finally summoned up a bit of a backbone, and apparently had gotten over his shock of seeing a living Delta in front of him, promptly told Jynx to go and do something to himself that was anatomically impossible. However, that did little to deter the Delta, who was now officially hell bent upon saving his squad mate.

"Let me rephrase that, then." he said, his voice eerily calm.

However, when next he spoke, it was considerably more forceful and anger filled, and he surged forward, grabbed the man around the throat, and slammed him into one of the station walls.

"Give me the Precursor damned access codes before I overload my aggression inhibitors!" he shouted, putting his DC-17 right into the elf's face for good measure.

The initial response this time, was for his hostage to lose control of certain bodily functions, before hastily coughing out an alpha-numeric code. The Delta looked back to Sig, who stepped up to the computer, and entered it. Seconds later, he was running around inside the system, and was able to successfully locate the cell block in which everyone was being held.

"Got em!" he exclaimed, that tone of excitement making its way back into his voice.

"Good." Jynx replied, before turning his blaster into a club up against the guards face, effectively putting him into a nap from which he would wake from in about six hours, with a headache so bad he wouldn't even remember his name for a while.

Delta Sixty Seven stepped over to the consol, attempting to find the fastest route to get where he wanted to go. After about two minutes, he had one memorized, and decided it best to make haste towards the cell block. However, as he went to turn around, Sig placed a hand upon his shoulder.

"One question." he said, giving Jynx a strange look as he did so, "Aggression inhibitors?"

"Our training and ways of fighting generated quite a few rumors among the rank and file." the soldier replied with a shrug. "One of the biggest ones was that we were more machine than we were flesh and blood, and I figured it couldn't hurt to play off of that."

"Well I for one," Daxter said, sticking his head out of Sig's ammo satchel, having decided it both more comfortable and safer than being upon his shoulder, "do not intend to argue with the results!"

Chuckling a bit, the Delta slipped back out the door, his two guns stuck out and ready to greet anyone who decided to try and stop him.

* * *

The pain, it was a million times worse than it had been before, scorching through him, driving him nearly mad with agony. Still, he refused to cry out, though he couldn't stop himself from thrashing about on the table to such a degree that his own agony induced spasms nearly shattered some vital internal organs.

And finally, after an unknown amount of time, it stopped. At first, he didn't care why Errol had decided to shut it down, he only felt relief that the pain had stopped, even if it was probably just for a moment. However, while he lay their panting, his eyes clenched shut in an instinctive attempt to somehow contain his suffering, he heard it, felt it. Errol hadn't turned the machine off at all. The concentrated Dark Eco, it still crackled around him, still ran its way over his body, but his batter shell would no longer absorb it.

His sociopathic nemesis was also confused, but decided to shut the machine down before anything could happen to it. After doing so, he walked around to where Jak lay, his breath still coming in ragged gasps, and stared at him long and hard, trying to figure out the answer to this mystery. All the while, Keira stood, a pair of commandos holding her arms, while her eyes screamed promises of a death that would have made the Grim Reaper himself cringe.

"Hmmm, curious," he muttered, ignoring the tech head, before shrugging his shoulders in a haphazard manner. "Oh well, we'll simply have to resume our fun at a later date."

He then turned to face Keira, and as he walked up to her, she took advantage of the fact that her feet were not restrained, and planted her knee into his gut, catching him off guard to say the least. The Commander staggered backwards, but before Keira could relish in her defiance, pain exploded through her skull as one of the yellow armored troopers planted his rifle butt into the side of her face with enough force to nearly shatter her jaw. It was followed by a similar explosion from her back, as the other command slammed his into her spine, cracking one of her vertebrae. She hit the ground, a soft groan coming from her as she tried to pick herself back up.

"I suggest," Errol snarled, leaning down in close to her, "that for your own sake, you start to be a little more cooperative!" he then added, with his tone being the living definition of menacing. "The Baron wants to know how you're creating your weapons, and has authorized me to get that secret out of you through any means necessary!"

In the next instant, several things happened. First, there was a sharp crack, and the seal on the cellblock door was forcefully removed, followed by a blinding flash and about one hundred and eighty decibels of noise suddenly filling the room. The next was of Jynx, Sig, and Daxter storming in, their guns at ready.

However, before they could take advantage of the situation, they were forced to dodge a torrent of blaster fire that came towards them, as some of the commandos had apparently been able to avert their eyes, and as he did a quick scan of the room, the Delta choked back a nervous gulp.

There were no less than a hundred and twenty of the elite troops present on the various tiers of the cell bock. Not helping, was the fact that there was not much in the way of cover to be found here.

However, before they could be cut down, something happened that caused everyone to stop what they were doing and stare towards the front of the room, their attention directed towards one particular individual.

Errol, had made a critical mistake with his threat, he had been a might bit too loud, and thus, even in his battered state, Jak had heard what he'd said, and knew of the implications. The result was for something within him, and his alter ego, to quite effectively snap. This resulted in a roar that split the air, a cry that could not have come from any elf, or for that matter, anything seemingly natural.

Errol looked back, and stared at the dark elf long and hard, gasping when Jak suddenly picked his head up, and opened his eyes, another fury laced growl making its way from his throat.

* * *

&

* * *

Once again, I apologize if this chapter was cliched, corney, or just sucked in general. Hopefully, the next chapter will be somewhat better, as I think you can all figure out what happens in that one, and I've actually been trying to get the details down on that one since before I even had this story posted.

Along similar notes, if anyone has an idea about a dark power that they would like to see D.J. ver. 2.0 unleash upon anyone stupid enough to go up against him, please let me know. I've got about four or five in mind, but more will likely be needed, as I will need diversity for what I have planned. Also, feel free to give me any ideas about some thing's you'd like to see Kitetsu be capable of.

On a final note, feel free to leave a comment, and idea or suggestion (begging on hands and knees for those), or even a flame if you feel like it. Also, remember to have a great day.


	23. Demonic Ascension

(walks out, humming Neodammerung under his breath)

Hello everybody, glad to be here, as my neck of the Florida panhandle just managed to dodge a bullet with Dennis deciding to make a last minute swerve to the west. My sympathies to anyone who was hit by the storm though, or if you know of anyone who happened to be caught in its path.

Also, sorry about my song butchering, I've been listening to the tune from Matrix: Revolutions where Smith and Neo were duking it out throughout the whole time that I was writing this, as it seemed somewhat appropriate.

Anyway, to those of you who have been so kind and reviewed.

**Dunce- **Glad that you liked Jynx's methods of persuasion, and I hope you like this chapter too, hehe.

**Lunatic Pandora1- **Actually, I think a couple of the Final Fantasy games did have something called tinfoil armor in it as a joke. And yes, I did once again come up short in the originality department and have to take that line from Starcraft. I'm sorry if this irritated you, and you'll probably see some more influence from that game as the story progresses, especially if I manage to get the sequel out.

**Xeno Freak- **Thanks for that bit of info on EVA, and I can tell you that Errol's death will be very, very painful. It might be tweaked just slightly, but for the most part, I think when he finally does manage to kill his nemesis, Jak do via a method that might remind several people of the not so epic confrontation between Emperor Palpatine and Luke Skywalker. Also, I'm glad that you told me what you thought of kung-fu Kor, I always thought it would be sorta funny if the players saw him suddenly break bad on a bunch of K.G. Also, thanks for the ideas regarding new powers. I'm not sure how I'll be able to introduce them, but I'll do my best, though if you read the Mar's Tomb Chapter, you'll see that it wasn't just Dark Eco users who were banished in this story, but for those who do, Jak will have something special hehehehe. On a final note, you made mention of the Soul Reaver, and I've a question for you. Is it just me, or does Light Jak look disturbing like Raziel when he has his scarf up?

**SRHumphry727-** I'm pleased that you liked Jynx totally thrashing Sig, I always wanted to see someone kick the crap outta him, no offense to the Wastelander, I just thought it would be funny. Also, I hope you enjoy my other story, and this chapter as well, though I feel obligated to tell you that this one is going to be bloody. Thanks for the idea as well, I'll try to find a way to work it in.

**MariaShadow- **Hoped someone would enjoy Jynx's little remark, and yes, Errol did make a big mistake, albeit a rather clichéd one, as you think after all this time, villain's would realize that to threat the love of the hero is never a good thing to do, and end results tend to be a little hazardous to their health. Hope you like what happens to the little sadist.

**ChibiSess- **Hehe, sorry about how sadistic I made Errol, but I thought that it would just make people happier when he finally kicks the bucket. About how I described Sig moving, I never really thought about it, but now that you brought it to my attention, I suppose yes, he could indeed have been making one heck of a racket, the thought you presented me with actually had me holding my sides in laughter ). Also, I regret to inform you that Dark won't be making as much use of his claws anymore, following this chapter, but hopefully what he starts to use in favor of them will appease you, and let me tell you that Errol will have some bad things start to happen to him. (cackles fiendishly).

**Paska- **Ahh, Morrowind, I finally managed to get that for my computer, and my dark elf is currently running around with some samurai armor that was created by a guy named Ronin, and let me tell you, armed with a daedric katana, he looks like a one Dumner army, (plus Ronin was able to get a shield to look like a wakazhasi, so even though I can only use it for blocking, it still looks like I'm dual wielding, which is awesome!) There will be some influence from the daedric weapons as far as Kitetsu is concerned, though its appearance is going to be tweaked one final time before all is said and done. Thanks for the idea though, and hopefully you'll like the chapter. Thanks for the body armor as well, you'll probably see to it that I make good use of it. (bows humbly).

**SeventhSpanishAngel- **I hope your vacation was pleasant, and I apologize about the cliffhanger. And let me tell you that yes, Jak will be going very, very postal in this chapter, and that there will be lost of blood and death involved. Hope you like it.

**Shakai- **Thanks for the gun-blade idea, it won't be something that I give to Kitetsu, but seeing as how I hadn't thought of anything to give to a certain character who will play a predominant role in the sequel, I think I know what to have him wielding now. And yes, Jynx has a heart, and I was thinking about bringing in something from FFVII. I've been toying with the idea of giving Jak an armored trench coat similar to the one that Spirit wears throughout the game, but I haven't decided yea or nay yet. What do you think? Also, have you noticed that between the final fantasy games, and DMC, that it's always the strange, silver haired dudes that are capable of unleashing the biggest cans of butt whooping?

**Farr2rich- **I'm sorry that Jak won't be losing an arm, though knowing his ability to heal in this game, he'd probably just grow it right back. However, I still plan to use your idea, and it may become obvious who will be receiving that kind of technology when this chapter is over. And don't worry about Errol psychotic sadism, he will suffer, of that, rest assured. Also, thanks for the ideas, I had already planned to have D.J. using lighting bolts, but I'd never thought about flames, must think of a way to get that in. Also, great idea on explaining how the nuke weapon works. Best of luck to ya in your writings, and I await an update eagerly.

**dude- **I'm happy that you liked the story, and I hope that this chapter has proved worthy of the time that you have spent reading this tale. Please, let me know what you think of this chapter, if you can.

**Air of Mystery- **Thank you for your input, and I hope that you found my own review of your story to be useful, ( I've never been very good at giving advice). Hopefully, I can help you disprove that myth about D.J. being a merciless killing machine. I mean sure, just because he's capable of unleashing death and destruction doesn't make him bad, I mean, look at the Jedi, in one of the comics, Yoda's throwing twenty thousand ton Separatist transport ships into each other, does that make him evil? Sorry, ranting again. Hope you like the chapter.

**Exardas- **hehehehehe, rest assured Errol will so find a new definition of pain and suffering before all is said and done. Though, regretfully he will return. However, he shall not do so as a cyborg, that role has already gone to someone else. Also, unlike the actual game I shall at least attempt to explain how the hell he comes back from the dead. On another note, I'm sorry I haven't been able to review your story, I've been very, very busy lately, I'll try to get to it soon, I promise.

**Light-Eco-Sage- **I'm sorry to hear about your internet problems, I've had a few of my own lately, and it forces us to redirect the wiring in our house. Also, glad that you liked the fact that Jak and Keira are once again a couple, wouldn't dream of breaking them up. On another note, while I cannot guarantee that Errol will have his butt kicked, he will have something handed to him, so to speak. (cackles fiendishly) . Hope that you update your own stories soon.

**animedragongirl- **Sorry to hear about your computer woes, Xeno Freak probably said it best in his review, and I personally feel that it is a mistake to allow anyone of these blasted things to realize that you are in a hurry, as that's when things really start to go haywire. On another note, your right that I didn't clarify whether or not Jak had transformed, and in hindsight, I probably should have gone wee bit further. Hopefully I'll be able to clear things up in this one, and hopefully it'll be enjoyable (crosses fingers).

To those who read, but did not review, I hope you have found this fic worthy of your time and effort.

Lawyers: I own nothing but those characters that I have created, get used to it.

Also, for those of you reading, I'm not sure if it merits it, but I have decided that I will rate this chapter as a 'M' due to D.J.s viciousness and the amount of gore involved when he makes his debut in his new form. I might be erring on overkill here, but just to be safe, you have been warned.

And, I want to extend my thanks to everyone whose ever left a review for me thus far. Your ideas and advice have helped me to come as far as I have in this story, and I don't think I'd be posting it today were it not for your help. This chapter is dedicated to all of you, with my sincerest gratitude.

* * *

&

* * *

Demonic Ascension

Errol felt a twisted combination of curiosity and fear make its way through him as he stared at the dark elf. His eyes were still the same burning sapphire that they had been before, but now, they were no longer the eyes that belonged to an elf. Slitted, reptilian pupils bored into him, the darkness in the center reflecting his own visage back at him, and he took an involuntary step back away from where Jak lay.

Keira, too, managed to summon up enough strength to look up from her prone position upon the metal floor. Through the pain that made its way through her, she was able to see the emotions and feelings that churned within the depths of the one she loved. Fear, for herself, and for all of them, and a rather good deal of righteous fury directed towards their captors. His eyes themselves spoke of something, that this latest treatment had changed something about himself in an utterly irrevocable manner. He started to struggle, thrashing against his bonds, trying to break free.

It was then that a certain Commander of the Krimzon Guard, who seemed to have finally found his backbone, stepped forward, assuring himself that there was no way Jak could break free, and decided to try and taunt the demon that he now realized was trying to manifest itself.

"Struggle all you want, you mindless little fiend," he said with a smirk, getting up to a point where he could have practically spat in Jak's face, "you're not going to get loose this time. You see, we took the liberty of changing the material of your restraints, that's solid ferrosteel you're trying to break."

However, his smile was quickly wiped off his face, once one appeared on 'Jak's' visage. In the next instant, complete with a battle roar, a veritable storm of Dark Eco lightning sprang from his body, blowing Errol off his feet and sending him crashing into a wall, more than a little dazed. Even then, with its nemesis struck down, the creature that dwelt within Jak did not relent, did not stop its attack. The storm surged upwards, striking the machine that was responsible for the injections, and completely destroying it. From there, it coursed its way over to where the consol was, and within seconds, it had been turned into slag.

As luck would have it, that particular console also served as the power regulator conduit that keep electricity running through the cell block. This resulted in the entire area being plunged into darkness, and also turned the cell doors into little more than decorations, as they could now be opened with a simple push.

However, for the most part, the guards could have cared less about the forty odd prisoners that were now no longer contained, they were more focused on what was happening concerning a certain dark elf. This, when combined with their inability to see what was going on, had one inevitable outcome.

Chaos.

The roars from where Jak was suddenly became rather pain filled, and an obsidian sphere, even darker than the pitch black abyss that the cell block had become, covered him. There was a strange pulsing sound, and all who knew of the demon that dwelt within the young elf braced themselves for any possibility. After a few seconds, the orb faded, and Keira heard a weird beating sound that she was certain that she'd heard before, but in her brain's pain addled state, was unable to recall.

Less than ten seconds had passed between the time when Jak had destroyed the power conduit and right then, but even as the emergency lighting came on, painting the entire cellblock with an eerie, hellishly red glow, all present found the lab table empty, with nothing but slagged ferrosteel restraints to show that it had just held something.

"Where'd he go?" Errol snarled, putting a voice to everyone's thoughts, and drawing a heavy blaster pistol at the same time.

Seeking to find an answer for their superior, the commandos began to look about, their fingers sliding down to their triggers, and ignoring the fact that several Underground members had come out of their cells, among them Samos and company.

Errol, walking by the remnants of the destroyed computer consol, heard a strange rattling sound, and looking over, saw something that stole his breath away. Kitetsu lay there, but it was not the blade that had been used by those of the Mar linage for so long. Now, the katana was a solid obsidian in color, and the runes written into its blade were a blood red crimson, while the sword itself had grown in size, now being something closer to four and a half to five feet in length. Furthermore, the katana was the source of the vibrations.

It happened just as one of the commandos looked up at the ceiling, noticing a strange, dark patch that the emergency lighting didn't cover. The blade suddenly gave one more violet shudder, and shot towards the roof. Its abrupt flight was halted as a taloned fist suddenly shot out of the darkness, and grabbed it. Then, a pair of red eyes became visible, burning like twin hell-forges and another growl filled the air. The answer to Errol's question had been found.

Back down on the ground floor, commandos exchanged uneasy glances, something that Sig and Jynx, who had been ignored completely, also did.

"How'd he get up there?" Sig muttered, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Beats the heck outta me." Jynx replied, his voice awe-filled, as he was still struggling to believe what his eyes were telling him. "But I'm praying that he's still on our side."

As if to answer Jynx's prayer, the demon suddenly threw Kitetsu. The blade arced out, spinning around, and its target was one of the commandos responsible for flooring Keira. And let it be known that that was no coincidence. There was a sharp hissing sound, and a small spatter of blood hit the floor, before the blade curved back around towards its wielder, who grabbed it out of the air with relative ease.

For a moment, no one was sure of what had just happened, until the yellow armored soldier suddenly let out a scream fit to wake the dead, and fell backwards, revealing that he had just had his legs cut off right below his kneecaps. Then, aside from the screams and moans of the soldier, the room fell silent, and all eyes turned towards the creature that was hanging from the brig ceiling.

The next instant would provide the answer to Sig's question, and would reveal to Keira what the sound had been that she had heard.

The rest of the strange shadows that surrounded the creature were suddenly dispelled, and it relinquished its grip upon the ceiling, letting gravity take over. However, before it had fallen for more than a second, it suddenly flipped around, and a pair of massive, bat-like wings suddenly extended to catch it, their span easily encompassing sixteen feet.

There was a terrifying grace to the way in which the creature's muscle and sinew worked together to keep it aloft, something that was both strangely beautiful, and downright scary to the way in which it easily maneuvered itself to the ground. And, despite the pain rushing through her, Keira was unable to stop her analytical mind from comparing the demon's new look, to that of its old.

Overall, its appearance had had one heck of a makeover, as while its older form had at least retained some semblance to humanity, now it no longer in any way resembled an elf. Its head was now flatter, more animalistic, and its face had elongated into something that could best be described as a muzzle. Also, while it still possessed its horns, they weren't really curved anymore, and now seemed to come backwards off of its brow ridges. Its neck was also about twice as long as it used to be in body size relations, giving it a greater degree of movement in that region. Furthermore, its hair was now black as a raven's feathers, and came down to about halfway between its shoulders and the small of its back. These, when combined with its new visage, gave an initial impression of something that was barbaric and feral.

However, that thought would be immediately dispelled once one stared into its glowing hellfire eyes, which seemed to literally burn with some kind of otherworldly intelligence.

Traveling further down, its build was the next thing she noticed. Whereas before, the oni had been about Jak's size, it now stood about a foot and a half higher than Sig, and muscles pulsed and rippled underneath a skin that had changed from a pale white to a strange purplish red, with weird black marks, that almost resembled some kind of pagan tattoos, adorning several areas of its body. There were also its hands, or more specifically, the talons that were attached to them, which had now retracted to something in the neighborhood of about half an inch. This no doubt made it much easier for it to grasp its weapon. What was also unmistakable were its wings, and the small, three taloned 'fingers' sticking off of the two joints that were above its shoulders. As it landed, these strange appendages showed what they were for, as it folded its wings across its shoulders, almost like a cape or a cloak, and they apparently acted like a clasp or a broach or some sort.

There was also a winding, serpentine tail that came off of it, about five feet long, which waved back and forth ominously as it stood before them all.

As started walking, a clacking sound filled the air as its raptoid foot talons connected with the metal floor, its strides surprisingly smooth and coordinated for a creature of its size. What was more, the lower body was different as well.

Its legs were now triple jointed, coming back slightly from the kneecap until about three quarters of the way down its shin, where a second joint was, whereupon it angled forward until it reached its foot. As for that particular appendage, it too was angled off the floor, though only just slightly, with four toes being at the front of the foot, while a fifth one, apparently quite flexible, came off of its heel. It was that changeup, along with the wings suddenly sprouting, that Keira realized was probably responsible for Jak's agony filled scream, as having your legs twist about on you while a new set of appendages sprang from your back, had to be anything but pleasant.

Upon these, its strode over to where the fallen commando was, who was now muttering incoherently and struggling in vain to reach the door of the cell block, both of his stumps bleeding quite profusely. Upon reaching him, the oni stared down, as if trying to figure out what to do with this particular elf. A few seconds later, it seemed to have made up its mind, and it reached out with one foot, and brought it slamming down on the remains of the trooper's right leg, shattering what was left of the bone and causing the commando to scream once more.

But the elite soldier's suffering did not end there, as the creature brought its sword up above its head, angling it point down, and kept it poised there for one single moment, just long enough for everyone present to realize what was about to happen. Then, it brought the dark katana down, plunging it into the elf's back, piercing armor, flesh, bone, and from the metallic shrieking sound, the floor as well, effectively pinning the elf where he lay, before turning its eyes upon the other one that had been guarding Keira.

The moment those eyes made contact, the man's courage deserted him, and he turned to bolt. However, even as he did so, the oni leapt, and before he had even made it five feet, it came crashing down upon his back, bearing him to the floor, and quite effectively crushing his spine. Not surprisingly, another scream split the air. However, compared to some, this commando's demise was to be mercifully swift, if excessively brutal, as the oni reached down, and to the amazement of all, actually grabbed the man around his head with its foot. It raised the soldier, now limp as a rag doll, up, bringing its kneecap even with its chest, before driving the elite trooper's head into the floor with sufficient force to actually leave a fairly good sized dent in it. Needless to say, death was rather rapid, following a blow such as that.

Snorting disdainfully, the oni then turned around, and walked back to where the aqua haired elf lay upon the floor, still trying to get up, but finding the pain of her back wound too much, was unsuccessful, and her arms gave out. However, rather than feeling the cold hardness of the cell block floor, she felt herself supported by something that felt rather like tough leather. She was slowly rolled about as the oni, with infinite caution, picked her up. The elf opened her eyes again, and found herself staring into its own. But, rather than the burning rage that it directed towards Errol and his men, she saw instead, an undeniable shimmer of concern for her.

However, as it gently cradled her in its arms, one commando, apparently thinking to take advantage of this perceptible distraction, took aim with his rifle.

It would be his last mistake.

In a flash, the oni had twisted about, and sent a blast of purple lighting streaking towards him. Before he could even cry out, the soldier, and four of his comrades who were unlucky enough to have been standing too close to him, were struck down, slain by the Channeled attack. Their bodies hit the floor, their armor smoking and the horrid smell of charred flesh filling the air, their bodies jerking spasmodically for a few seconds as some of the dark electricity continued to crackle over them, before they at last went still.

The creature glanced about, growling, its slitted eyes boring into the enemy troopers, glaring as if to say 'anyone else want to try that?' The unspoken answer was a resounding no, and so, with the K.G. elites rather effectively cowed, it spread its wings, and took to the air, flying over to where Samos stood upon the third tier. Those troopers who happened to be near them, upon realizing its destination, beat a hasty retreat to other areas of the cell block, not that such a course of action would help them in the long run.

It alighted upon the topmost tier of the cell block gently, and slowly set the elf that was so dear to its host's heart, and in a way, its own, down in front of her adoptive father. Samos got down on his knees, and looked over the extent of his daughter injuries, which, while not something that one could simply slap a band-aid upon, were still within his abilities to deal with. Sighing in relief, he looked up, staring into the glowing coals of the oni's eyes, a sudden expression of rage upon his face.

"I'll take care of her," he said, his voice carefully measure, containing a fury that was entirely understandable considering the circumstances, "you just deal with them!"

And so saying, Samos felt deep within himself, calling upon some of his power that he'd stored up all these years, knowing that he'd need it for this very moment today. Releasing the pent up Green Eco, he sent it into his adoptive daughter, and watched as it rapidly went about its business. A couple of seconds later, she sat up with a groan, before staring up at the demon once more, which seemed relieved that she was alright.

The elder Samos abruptly looked to his younger counterpart, whose face was twisted into a mask of fear. It was understandable, considering that this was his first time ever laying eyes upon the creature, let alone in its new form. Furthermore, it was about to make one hell of a first impression. But, the older Sage was privy to quite a bit more knowledge about the creature than his younger self did. He knew, that despite its appearance and tremendously awful power, which did draw upon something usually associated with death and evil, that the oni's heart was not dark. This creature, devil or not, was far more noble than a good many elves could claim.

Abruptly, the demon turned around, and spreading its wings, leapt off of the tier and dove back towards where it had left the impaled commando.

The elf was alive, though it was obvious to all that his wounds were most definitely mortal ones. Still, he clung to life, if just barely, and was trying to remove the dark katana from his back. Walking up beside the stricken elf, the oni abruptly snatched his groping left wrist, before squeezing it, turning the bones to dust. However, the guard's scream of agony over that was very quickly outdone by what the oni did next.

It gave a single forceful yank, and tore the commando's arm right out of its socket, causing almost everyone on the ground floor to take an involuntary step backwards. It then flung the severed appendage away, taking careful aim to ensure that it landed at Errol's feet. However, the elite soldier, who was by now nearly mad with pain, would not be allowed to die from blood loss, as the oni suddenly lashed out, a gruesome death being the price that the elf had to pay for daring strike the soul mate of its host.

There was a collective gulp from Errol and his men, as the creature finished, and several of the Underground members who had beheld the spectacle quickly ducked back into their cells, relieving themselves of their last meals. As for the oni, it reached down, and with blood stained talons, pulled Kitetsu free from the floor, which was similarly coated and devoid of any piece of flesh larger than a standard credit. What was left of the commando was now scattered all over the area. It then turned its head upon its neck, staring at the soldiers once again, who felt their bowels begin to quiver with fear.

It was then, that something happened, something that added further surrealism to, as far as the Krimzon Guards were concerned, this nightmare come to life.

The oni spoke.

"We cannot be caged." it growled in a strange, distorted voice, narrowing its glowing eyes at the yellow armored troopers.

"We, _**will not, **_be controlled!" it roared, turning around to face them fully, flipping its dark sword around to where it was held like a knife.

For a brief second it paused, looking up, its eyes locking with Keira's, before it craned its neck around to look at Daxter, who had his head out of Sig's ammo satchel, his furry mug gawking.

"And," it said, its voice deceptively calm, "we will not let you harm those dear to us."

It abruptly snapped into an attack position, very similar to Jak's own, and glared at the troopers one final time.

"Know this, you fools, as Death embraces you!" it snarled, before charging the nearest group of commandos, its speed so great as to actually leave a continuous afterimage of itself behind.

It reached the first of its enemies before most of the elves present had even realized that it had begun to move, and it brought Kitetsu across his chest with a very slight upswing, while at the same time, bringing its left hand down, and revealing to all that while its talons may have been shorter than before, they were no less deadly, as it pretty much ripped the face off of a second foe. The third one to die had just managed to bring his weapon up, when the oni gripped its blade with both hands, and brought it down like a knife, plunging it up to the hilt in the commando's chest.

Three were now dead, and the majority of the elites had yet to even get their weapons properly oriented. This would prove to be a trend throughout the battle, if it could even be called that, as massacre-in-progress would be a better description.

The creature ripped the dark katana out of the dying commando, letting him slump to the ground, while it whipped around and pointed an outstretched hand towards a cluster of soldiers that were upon the second tier. Once again, lightning shot out of its talons, the Channeled Dark Eco striking them down before they even had time to react. Not pausing for an instant, the oni returned its attention to the commandos that were in front of it, who were beginning to employ a hasty counter fire. Nonetheless, it weaved in between the bolts for the most part, while the few that did hit caused no apparent damage, possibly due to its wounds healing so quickly, all the while cutting the elites down as if they were nothing more than yakows.

Errol, meanwhile, was quick to realize that all of these commandos, elite troops that would have sent fear into the heart of any sane elf, were absolutely no match for this hellspawn that he had just helped to create, if the fact that they were rapidly being turned into bloody confetti was any indication. Thus, he concluded that to remain where he was would not have been very conductive towards any of his life's ambitions, or, for that matter, his continued breathing. Fortunately, he was able to quickly locate a potential escape route that was out of the way, as a small group that had initially made a break for the door and met with a rather painful end. Unfortunately, said escape route happened to be a garbage chute. Even more unfortunately for him, the oni that was currently turning his men into meaty giblets seemed to suddenly take notice of him as he bolted for the chute, and with a snarl, sent Kitetsu flying at him.

In a move born from desperation, he leapt, twisting about in midair in the process. But, as he did so, he felt a searing pain suddenly explode in his left arm, and as he tumbled down, he suddenly realized why.

It had just been severed at the shoulder.

Watching the sociopathic commander escape, the demon let out a snarl of rage, before pivoting about and unleashing more Dark Eco lightning upon its hapless foes, while at the same time, sticking its hand up to catch Kitetsu when it came back to it. A moment later, it turned around and charged at another commando, who had just reloaded his gun, and was now in the process of leveling it and opening fire, sending a stream of Eco hurtling at the oni. A few bolts connected, but did nothing to slow it down, and as it got to within striking distance, it suddenly spun around and got behind him, sticking the dark katana out in mid twirl. This neatly severed the yellow armored warrior's head from his shoulders.

At the same time that that soldier's corpse as collapsing to the floor, it stuck out its right foot, and raked the talons along the chestplate of another trooper, tearing through the titanium-A as if it were wet cardboard, and utterly sundering the soldier's heart. It then, with a mighty flap of its wings, took to the air once again, coming down on top of another commando, caving his chest in, while simultaneously tossing out its blade again. It then swung its right hand, backhanding another soldier with sufficient force to break his neck and send his body flying. It followed the movement through, spinning around, and one unfortunate trooper found out first hand that the oni's tail was not there simply to look intimidating, as it smacked him across the chest, breaking his ribs and propelling him into a wall. He hit it with a wet crack, and slowly slid to the ground, his last vision being of one of his fellows being cleaved in half by a double handed vertical chop as the creature caught its blade again.

Meanwhile, though, Torn, never one for simply standing around during a time of action such as this, launched himself at a quartet of commandos who were taking aim at the creature from nearby. The first one never saw him coming, as the Underground soldier slammed his palm into his nose, which was not covered by his helmet, sending his nose bone into his brain, killing him instantly. The next one fell rather quickly as well, his skull caved in from a well placed kick from the ex-Delta's cybernetic leg. However, the other two, standing a little bit further away, heard the commotion, and promptly went to turn their weapons upon him. Snarling, he charged at them, knowing that he didn't have time to reach down and pick up the fallen soldiers' weapons.

Ashelin saw all this, and watched as the person she cared for so much hurled himself at his enemies, heedless of the guns being pointed at him. However, even as the denial began to work its way into her heart, as she watched what she feared would be his last moments upon the mortal coil, salvation came in a darkly comical manner.

For the oni had heard the ex-Delta's war cry, and had seen what was happening out of the corner of its eye. Its blade currently cutting through the enemy, as it had once more tossed it, it opted for a different tactic. It jumped, landing in front of a startled commando, and before the elf could even begin to react, reached out with its right foot, grabbing him around the face, and spinning around with nightmarish speed, before turning the elite soldier into an impromptu missile, snapping his neck in the process. Keeping up the momentum from its spin, it leaped once more, grabbed another unfortunate commando, and this time performed a back flip with similar results.

The first of the two yellow armored soldiers had just finished leveling his rifle, and was beginning to apply pressure to the trigger, when his comrade's corpse suddenly smashed into him, the force of the collision shattering bones and crushing some rather vital organs.

"What the…" his comrade began, turning just in time to receive the second flying commando right in his face.

For an instant, Torn stood where he was, and Ashelin did as well, with possibly the most dumbfounded looks in recorded elven history being plastered upon their tattooed faces. Both blinked twice, before turning to look down where the creature was wreaking utter havoc amongst the remnants of the troopers, unleashing another lightning storm that effectively reduced to number of surviving commandos to something in the area of thirty five.

It grabbed the runed katana out of the air again, spinning around and decapitating another elite trooper, before rushing at two more that were firing upon it. It blasted by them, a blur as it moved. Both commandos had sudden looks of confusion upon their faces, and an instant later, both fell, cut in half at the waist. The oni didn't stop to look back upon its handiwork, however, as it knew they were dead. Instead, it kept weaving and dancing about, slicing down the few remaining soldiers with sickening ease.

Yet more fire came at it from above, and it realized that it had missed a few pockets of troopers, a problem that it intended to rectify at once. Unfurling its wings, it proceeded to do just that, its membraned appendages propelling it towards the largest concentration of opposition at a nightmarish velocity. It came in hard and fast, its taloned feet latching onto the walls, which dented inward from the force being applied to it.

It lashed out, Kitetsu cutting through one soldier's arm, his sternum, and back out through his other arm as it relinquished its grip upon the wall. It landed on one hand, spinning around and bringing its dark weapon up to slice off one commando's legs, while at the same time, reaching out and grabbing another yellow armored trooper with its legs, before using them to literally tear the elf in half. The sheer ferocity of the attack stunned the rest of the elite warriors, ensuring that they died with barely even a struggle.

This left a mere six of the commandos, one twentieth of the force that had been standing guard in the cell block not a few minutes earlier. These ones were spread out into four groups that were in the corners of the various rooms. This time, the oni decided to show to all present a new trick that it had up its sleeve.

Ignoring the fire coming at it, opting to let its healing factor take care of whatever wounds it might acquire, it slammed Kitetsu into the ground, and unfurled its wings while balling up its fists. In its hands, and within the claws of its wings, four balls of concentrated Dark Eco formed. With a battle roar, it flung its limbs out, sending the attacks on their merry little way. The troopers had just enough time for their eyes to widen before the attacks hit home upon them, snuffing out their lives in an instant.

But even as the darkness was fading, revealing the half disintegrated corpses of its final enemies, the oni shook itself free of its battle lust, and a palpable sense of calm overcame it. Retrieving its blade, it took to the air yet again, flying back over to where Keira and the others were.

Back on the ground floor, untouched by the fighting, Jynx, Sig, and Daxter felt their jaws try to unhinge themselves as they stared around at the carnage. One hundred and twenty of Praxis' best men, cut down in less than four minutes. To say it was a stunning performance, was indeed an understatement.

"Holy…" Sig began, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Drek…" Jynx finished as he trotted over to some stairs that would get him up to the top tier. "Note to self: do not get on his bad side."

The oni meanwhile, was checking up on Keira, concern evident in its strange voice.

"Are you alright?" it asked, its red eyes looking over her for any further sign of injury.

"I'm fine, Jak." she said, smiling faintly.

"That is good to know," the creature replied, breathing a sigh of relief, "though I feel that you should realize that the Channeler and I are not quite one in the same."

"Wha?" Keira asked, cocking her eyebrow at the demon.

"It is…complicated, we shall explain later." it replied.

Agreed," the Shadow concurred, staring somewhat uneasily at the large being not to far from where he was, "we need to get out of here and figure out a way to derail Baron Praxis' plans, before the heaven accursed fool somehow manages to kill us all!"

"Just a darn minute!" Samos interjected. "Our top priority is to find Prince Alexander!"

"What for?" his younger self responded. "Praxis already has the Precursor Stone, and said himself that the boy wasn't a threat anymore. Wherever he and Kor are, they'll be fine for the moment."

"Oh, look who thinks they've sprouted," the elder chided, before practically exploding, "if you had even half the wisdom that I do, you would understand the most important thing we could be doing right now is finding that boy!"

"Listen, you dried up old log, I run this show, and right now I say that Alexander takes secondary priority. I don't like the idea any more than you do, but Kor will make sure that nothing else happens to him." The Shadow countered.

"Do we have to separate you two?" Keira exclaimed, pressing her arms in between the two arguing Sages.

There was a sudden scream, and everyone turned to find Daxter, who had finally climbed out of Sig's ammo pouch.

"Dear Precursors!" the former elf exclaimed in panic, looking back and forth between the two green elves. "They're multiplying!"

At the same time Ashelin and Torn felt their breath leave their lungs, as they watched Delta Sixty Seven walk over towards them, an unseen smile stretched across his face.

"Jynx," Torn breathed, not daring to hope, "is that you?"

"No, Leader-Man," the pyromaniac shot back, "it's your guardian angel."

With cries of joy, and nary a care in the world for their reputations, the two elves threw themselves at the grey armored soldier, nearly crushing him with their embraces.

"Awww, guys," he said even as he struggled to breathe, his voice choked up with emotion, "I didn't know you cared so much."

"How are you still alive?" Ashelin asked, elated to see her old friend wasn't pushing up daisies.

"It's a long story." Jynx said, leaving it at that for the moment.

As for the others, well, the two Samos were still exchanging heated words, despite Keira's best efforts to stop them, until a certain eight and a half foot tall demon put in its two credits.

"Enough, both of you!" it bellowed.

Needless to say, both promptly shut up. Taking a deep breath, the oni continued.

"I do not know how long I can remain manifested like this, so we should be making escape our highest priority at the moment." it said in a calmer tone, eyeing both of them.

"If it's at all possible," Keira said, looking at it, "I'd like to get my raided equipment back. I don't know about anyone else, but I for one, would rather that the Baron not figure out how I built those things."

"That gets my vote, too." Samos said, nodding to his daughter, before he turned to face Jynx and Sig. "Did either of you two notice any rooms when you were trying to find us that looked exceptionally heavily guarded?"

The Wastelander and the Delta exchanged a glance with each other, and Sig mused for a second before snapping his fingers.

"There was one, had guards, mounted auto-guns, and a double sealed bulkhead, didn't look like it was too far from here." the armored elf responded.

"That sounds about right," Ashelin concurred, "I remember my old man saying something about a research lab somewhere on this level."

"Then that is our next stop." the oni said, twirling its blade.

They grabbed the weapons of the downed commandos, and quickly made their way out of the cell block, with the elder Samos pausing just long enough to grab Kitetsu's sheath, as it too had managed to survive the lighting storm that the oni had initially unleashed.

* * *

The last Krimzon Guard fell to his knees, clutching at his bowels as they spilt out on the ground. There had been six of them, who lay in pools of their own lifeblood, plus a trio of ceiling mounted turrets, which were now little more than slag. Once again, the creature had shown just how swiftly it could deal out death.

Now, the only thing that stood between them and the area where Keira's equipment probably was, was a large blast door. It was about seven feet around, and if it followed construction protocols, was every bit of two feet thick. Quickly, Ashelin stepped up to the door's control panel, and entered a series of numbers. Unfortunately, the result of this action was an access denied, followed by a not so silent alarm.

"Fierfek!" she swore, slamming her fist against the wall. "My codes don't work anymore, my old man must have deleted them already!"

"Then let us try mine." the oni growled, stepping forward and jamming Kitetsu into the ground.

It walked over until it stood about fifteen feet away from the blast door, and then it turned to face it, while Ashelin wisely decided to vacate the area. Then it closed its eyes, and took in a deep breath, and the air around it began to crackle and pulse, flickers of dark energy filling it. The demon brought its hands close together, and the elves watched as Dark Eco flowed over the creature's body, and covered its hands. With a roar, it stuck them out, palms open, and a beam of Channeled Eco shot straight out, impacting upon the blast door with a deafening explosion.

A moment later the attack ended, and when the smoke cleared, the blast door was naught but a memory. The various members of the Underground exchanged glances with each other, while Jynx was the first one to find his voice.

"Nice skeleton key." he remarked, a bit of his old humor present in his voice.

The creature turned to face him, and a small smile tugged at the corners of its jaws. Then it stepped forward, ignoring the stench of the melted titanium-A, but still being mindful of the smoldering edges. Keira was right behind it, looking about frantically for her equipment and her morph-gun chips. After a few seconds, she spotted them, the various pieces of her work, which ranged from blueprints and theoretical designs, to a few models that were near completion and some finished ones that had yet to be distributed. She also saw her own armor and her gauntlets, and dashed forward to grab them.

Others came in after her as she was donning her armor, grabbing what they could, while at the same time being mindful of just how valuable to the war effort what they were carrying was. As plans were gently rolled, and chips carefully placed in pockets, Keira finished equipping herself, and made a fist with her left hand. As it always did, the crystal in the gauntlet shot out, and the sound blade formed, distorting the air. She turned back to look at the oni, a crooked smile making its way over her face.

"Nice of them not to tinker with my toys." she said, uncurling her fist and letting the weapon return to its normal place.

* * *

Errol cried out in pain as he landed amongst the garbage of the disposal unit. Not helping was the fact that he had not only landed among the refuse and scrap, but on his left side, further aggravating his already painful injury. Still, even and blackness rushed into to claim him, he fought back, willing it away, and staggering back up to his feet.

Struggling to keep his loss of blood to a minimum, the commander of the Krimzon Guard lurched over to the pressure doors that kept the unit sealed off from the rest of the fortress. He then proceeded unsealed the door, and stumbled out.

Due to the chaos, guards were roaming everywhere, and it was not long before a patrol discovered their commander and his near fatal wound. Quickly and efficiently, they got him to a med-bay, where medics would hastily stabilize him. Still, even as a very large supply of morphine was sending him away to dream land, Errol clinched his remaining fist, vowing vengeance upon the dark elf who had humiliated him for what he swore would be the last time.

* * *

By this time, the Fortress had enough alarms and klaxons going off inside of it to make most think that the world was probably going to end. And indeed, in some melodramatic way, with this proverbial Angel of Death running around inside of the prison, that remark was strangely appropriate.

But, powerful as it was, the oni was not alone in its fight. The Underground soldiers that had been chosen to escort the Shadow and Prince Alexander to the tomb had been the best within their ranks, their own version of the commandos. This, when combined with Keira, Ashelin, a Wastelander, and the last two members of the Delta Squads, made for a very lethal combo, as many a K.G. was to find out the hard way.

Such as one commando that began firing down into the hallway that they were in from a higher story. The elite trooper managed to get about three bursts off from his blaster rifle when Torn lobbed a plasmite grenade at him. His aim was true, and the explosive adhered to the yellow armored soldier's chestplate. There was a quick, panicky yell, swiftly drowned out by the subsequent explosion.

Jynx was busy too, as when they reached an intersection, a squad of a half or so dozen regulars came out, and charged them as only the greenest of rookies could do. A few seconds worth of retaliatory submachine gun fire later, and Delta Sixty Seven taught t a very prudent lesson to anyone who might have been watching through a security camera about making use of the invaluable nature of a miraculous little thing called 'cover.'

They came upon a corner in the corridor that they were charging down, and the demon took the lead again, leaping forward and latching onto the far wall with its talons, before launching itself around the bend, startling a few Krimzon Guards who had set up a small barricade. By the time the creature's comrades in arms were able to get around the turn, they found precious little that could still be considered opposition, as said soldiers were currently twitching out their lives.

No hesitating to admire the handiwork of the oni, they pressed on, desperately trying to get out of the stronghold before the K.G. could overwhelm them.

* * *

Some minutes, and about two hundred Krimzon Guard corpses later, things finally got a little more complicated for the Underground. As they approached a T shaped intersection, there came a strange clanking sound somewhere ahead, and all present paused in their steps, unsure of what to make of this. Then, they made their first appearance.

Ever since Ashelin had delivered those data disks to Torn, the Underground had known that the Baron and Errol had had their best scientists and technicians working round the clock on some kind of automated soldier project, and now, they beheld the fruits of their labors.

They were eight of them, in two squads of four, that came from around either corner. They were balled up, rolling towards the Underground, however, they abruptly stopped, and unfurled, standing up on two legs, while their hands, Keira noted, appeared to be little more than a pair of high powered twin auto blasters. That was about as far as she was able to get in her analyzing before the combat droids opened fire.

In a flash, the oni had spread its wings, a desperate attempt to provide cover for its allies. Nonetheless, some shots did get through and several resistance soldiers were hit, among them was the elder Samos, shot three times in his chest an arms before he could dive out of the way. Torn was hit as well, his cybernetic leg taking an Eco bolt as he leapt to on side.

Hearing her father cry out as he fell, Keira looked back, and a murderous rage came over her. Ripping the clip out of her gun, she switched it to its RPG mode, loaded up several shots, and promptly began to unleash her fury upon her mechanical opponents. She was not alone either, as the oni had heard the old Sages shouts as well. Snarling, it stuck out its left hand, and those present were shown that dangerous as these new killing machines were, they didn't stand up to well to the power of a Channeler.

The robots little more than flaming metal and slag, both of them turned back around and rushed back to where the Sage lay. His younger self was standing over him, trying to patch up the wounds, and for the most part, it seemed to be working. Still, Keira would not breathe a sigh of relief until they were out of here, that had been way too close for her liking.

Torn was having his own problems. While a shot to a robotic limb would be anything but fatal, he was suffering from a sudden inability to move said appendage. Snarling, he took out his knife, and sliced away at his fatigues until he could get a better look at the damage. As he did so, Ashelin and Jynx, both of whom had realized that he wasn't getting up, quickly came to his aid as best they could. Once the three of them had gotten the pant's leg out of the way, he looked at the sparking wires and circuitry, and let out a swear that grabbed everyone else attention as well.

"What's wrong?" Ashelin said, managing to keep her cool despite who it was that was wounded.

"Looks like the primary servo motivator's been fragged." Torn said with a growl.

"In English, buddy?" Jynx inquired, somewhat confused.

"This leg's now thirty five pounds of dead weight!" the Ex-Delta snarled, fiddling with a few things before tearing the smoking remains of his prosthetic off.

"In that case…" a certain pyromaniac replied, before getting down his knees and turning his back to his commander.

Torn slapped his forehead as he realized what Jynx wanted him to do. Reluctantly, and with a very obvious reddening of his face, he clasped his arms around Delta Sixty Seven's neck. The demolitions expert then stood up, and prepared to carry his stricken brother in arms out of the Fortress.

"I have never been more thoroughly embarrassed in my life." Torn muttered.

"Consider it me evening up the score from that time you bailed me out of that situation we ran into on our third mission together." Jynx retorted.

Ashelin opened her mouth to say something, but a shrieking sound cut her off. She turned, they all did, in fact, and saw the source of the noise. While they'd been occupied tending to their wounded, a commando had snuck up on them, armed with nothing other than a fuel rod cannon. A green comet streaked towards them, promising death, when something intercepted it. They ducked instinctively, and Keira screamed as a certain eight and a half foot tall oni went sailing back and Dark Eco splattered on the walls.

However, as the commando smirked and took aim again, the aqua haired elf leveled her own weapon. However, before she could pull the trigger, lighting flashed and thunder crackled, streaking past the resistance members and slamming into the yellow armored elite, blasting him back against the wall, and snuffing out his life.

As one, the Underground turned around, and saw the creature on one knee, supporting itself with Kitetsu, one half of its chest nothing more than a ribcage and scorched organs, while most of its body sported some rather nasty burns. As they stared, though, the wounds once again began to heal, albeit considerably more slowly than they had before. Keira raced over, and helped it back to its feet.

"We need…" it began, in some rather obvious pain, "to get out of here…now…." It took another deep gasp. "I cannot…stay…much longer."

A couple of seconds latter, it seemed to get a bit of a second wind, and trotted back up to the front of the Underground forces.

But it was right though, time was running out.

* * *

The horrendous shrieking of sundered metal filled their air, and what was left of two more K.G. hit the ground, effectively removed from the equation. From there, Jynx had rigged up another one of his homemade surprises, and had blown the main door of the Fortress wide open. The forty odd elves rushed out into the night, seeking the nearest alleys and side streets that they could get through.

Still, though, it was not without risk, as there was likely a city wide bulletin on what was going on echoing over every military frequency and channel right then. Further complicating this was the fact that their strongest team member seemed to be on his last legs.

Still, they weren't about to go down without a fight, as several patrols found out. Then, though, as a squadron of regulars stepped out of a back alley, assistance arrived in a most unlikely form. One of the soldiers, taking aim, suddenly felt a pain lance through him, and staring down, saw what appeared to be a spear protruding from his chest. He expired with a look of confusion upon his face, while his comrades, turning around, met with similar fates.

For a moment, everyone paused, uncertain about what had just happened. Then, one of the shadows stepped forward, his golden eyes reflecting the moonlight.

"Bruter?" Torn said, somewhat surprised as even more Lurkers came out of the shadows.

"Heard the reports." the Lurker replied, smiling faintly. "Thought you might need help." He quickly motioned over his shoulder, back towards where he and his brethren had appeared from. "Hurry, this way!"

Guided by their friend, the Underground soldiers quickly made their way towards a nondescript area of the Industrial section, where they at last stopped at a manhole cover that the Lurkers. Barking out an order to his fellows, Bruter stood at ready, his large eyes sweeping about as the cover was removed and the first of the Underground members began to descend into the sewers.

However, once they were about halfway done, Jynx stiffened, feeling a slight vibration in the ground through his boots. An instant later he heard it. It was a heavy, machine like noise, the sound of a large engine and something rumbling over the ground.

"Funny," he remarked out loud, glancing at Torn, who still clung to his back, "that sounds almost like a…" he trailed off for a second, the implication hitting him.

"Oh, hell!" his brother in arms replied reaching the same conclusion.

It rounded a bend in the road, one of its floodlights illuminating the whole force. For a moment, every one of the resistance soldiers had the proverbial deer caught in the headlights look, as they found themselves staring at a fully operation Scorpion assault tank. The driver also appeared somewhat startled, to have stumbled across the escaping fugitives. However, that surprise passed in a moment, and minding his orders, he promptly had the gunner of the tank ready the main cannon. It was then, that a roar distracted him yet again.

Standing in front of the Underground forces, was the creature, and without a second's hesitation, it unleashed one of its abilities, Channeling its power into a beam once more, and proving that double sealed bulkheads weren't the only thing it was capable of reducing to scrap.

The explosion that it created lit up the entire block, and everyone threw themselves to the ground to avoid the shrapnel generated, as an exploding assault tank did have the annoying tendency to create quite a bit of that stuff when it went kerplewie.

"Wow." Jynx muttered, looking over his shoulder at his squad leader once again, as a rounded piece of debris bounced and clanged its way past them.

However, the creature had reached its limit, and that attack had been all that it had left. It staggered, and its control left, its form returning to that of the dark elf. However, Jak was little better, and he swooned. Fortunately, Both Keira and Samos were able to catch him before he ate dura-crete, though he was most definitely down for the count, so to speak.

At the same time, the younger Samos made certain to grab Kitetsu, which had returned to its original state. And then, without any further interruptions, the Underground proceeded to live up to its name.

* * *

Meanwhile, watching from the safety of the Fortress' control room, Baron Praxis watched a security tape over and over again. He found himself unable to tear away his eyes as he saw Jak transform and wipe out the commandos that he'd had in position in case just such a scenario happened. As their progress continued, and the despot observed it cut down K.G., slag battle droids, and generally slaughter anything stupid enough to get in between it and the freedom of it an its compatriots.

At first he did not know what to make of this turn of events. Rage, disbelief, despair, all made their way through the heart of the usurper.

Finally, he decided to react to one of the strangest impulses. He started to laugh bitterly, a grudging smile making its way to his face. This caused some of the other people present to give him strange looks, but he didn't seem to care.

After an apparent eternity, he managed to find his voice.

"We wanted to create the ultimate weapon," he muttered, loud enough for those standing near him to hear, "an unstoppable biological engine of destruction." he said, and paused, looking to a replaying security tape from the brig. "It would seem as though our little 'weapon' has exceeded all of our expectations."

* * *

&

* * *

Okay, finally got this chapter done, and hopefully everyone will like D.J.'s makeover. If anyone wants to know what he looks like in greater detail, e-mail me and I'll send you a picture that I stumbled across some time back that gave me the idea. Also, I want to apologize and hopefully appease anyone still murderously enraged at the fact that Errol is still drawing breath. My defense for this fact is that I don't think it would be right to go and kill him off before first subjecting him to complete and total humiliation at Jak's hands.

Also, I still am open to ideas regarding guns, or Dark Channeling powers.

Also, any advice or constructive criticism is welcomed with open arms, as are flames, as I might be able to use them to torch my little bro the next time he starts to bug the holy crap outta me.

Thanks for you time, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and please remember to have a great day.


	24. In Which a Blind Seer Does Some Explaini

Good day to you all, and boy...this chapter has been a pain. I've been working on this one for about two weeks now, seeing as how the last chapter was practically done even before I started posting this story and thus required only a little bit of tweaking...and I'm still not sure if I've got it down good enough...if that should prove to be the case, rest assured that this chapter will be yanked off the net.

At any rate, to those of you who have reviewed.

**ChibiSess- **Glad that you enjoyed the chapter, I wasn't really certain how well people were going to take the whole makeover deal with D.J. In this chapter, I shall now attempt to make a half (expletive deleted) attempt to explain what happened (crosses fingers). Also, rest assured that Errol will get what is coming to him, and his death will be painful. Still, as far as the K.G. is concerned, some of them have to be decent, or at least tolerable, as I'm fairly certain that the Freedom Guard, or whatever they're called in number three, has to be made of mostly of reformed K.G., as there's no way that they could have gotten the military up and running with fresh recruits that quickly. On another not, did you get that last e-mail that I sent you about the drawing you were trying to make? Oh yeah, and best of luck to you in your own writings.

**Xeno-Freak- **To answer your question, yes D.J.'s claws are now permanently shorter, as I figured his normal talons would make it difficult for him to grab Kitetsu. Thank you for the ideas on the dark powers as well, I'd been planning on Jak getting some normally, to sorta replace the morph gun. Let's face it, if you can throw out Dark Eco powers that rival a Sith Lord in their potency, why in the name of Heaven do you need a gun? Also, about the K.G., I threw in a scene especially for you towards the end of the chapter, hope you enjoy it. (smiles and bows)

**animedragongirl- **Thank you so much for the critiquing, especially on chapter two, I'm probably going to have to go back and revise that at some point in time... At any rate, I apologize for the bad grammar, as the grammar checker on my computer misses a lot of stuff sometimes, and I lack a beta reader. I try my best to catch my mistakes through proofreading...but it seems like I can never find the most glaring errors until about two days after I've posted the chapter...and it infuriates me to no end. (slaps self upside the head). Still, I'm glad that you liked the chapter, and I'm happy that i could make you laugh. (bows)

**dude- **Glad you liked it, though I'm going to need your email address in order to send you the picture. Other than that, I hope that you enjoy this chapter too, where i attempt to explain the mysterious change in our favorite inner demon.

**Lunatic Pandora1- **Glad your okay with D.J.'s new look, and it is sorta Balrogish now that I think about it. And Speaking of Diablo, did you ever notice that Light Jak's wings were a blatant steal from Tyrael's? Also, I don't know what so bad about a paper fan as a weapon. Think about it: death by paper cut! (cackles insanely) At any rate, hope you like this chapter too, as I'm really going out limb here.

**bureiku- **Glad you liked D.J.'s description, and may you enjoy the rest of the work.

**Evil Manic- **Not sure what you mean by wind scar, could you clarify? Thanks for the weapon ideas too, but I'm pretty certain that I'm going to have to leave out the Warthog. As Paska will tell you, I've ripped enough from Halo as it is. (chuckles nervously).

**Philoworm- **You flatter me, and if you think I'm good, check out some of the things Lizzy Rebel has written, she's light-years beyond me as far as skill is concerned. Also, to answer your questions, yes that attack was inspired by the impulse, and I apologize for not being any more original in its concept. The second, Jak will indeed receive his own variety of Dark Channeling powers, and they will replace his guns for ranged combat. Finally, I intend to stop this at the end of Jak 2, but there is a sequel that I am trying to iron out the details on, though it will be semi-AU due to one radical thing that will become apparent in this chapter.

**Of Darkness- **You needn't worry about offending me. In truth, I feel as though I should apologize to you, as when someone is disappointed in what I turn out, I feel as though I've come up short somewhere. Suffice to say that D.J.'s new look, which was actually meant to be more akin to that Balrog from LOTR, has to do with another sub-plot which will have its beginnings in this chapter, and I hope to God that it conveys the point well enough. if not, feel free to shoot me...or rather...my ashes, as Paska sorta nuked me to dust a few chapters back... At any rate, other than that, I am glad that you have enjoyed the story up to this point, and on a final note, D.J.'s eyes are still black for the most part, its just his irises that are red.

**just another writer- **Thank you for your input on the last chapter, and fore explaining hat thing about Dante, as I always wondered why he never had to reload. Not sure if I'd be able to work that into the storyline, but I'll try to see if I can. Hope you like this chapter just as much. (crosses fingers and bows).

**Farr2rich- **Yes, Errol will be the one to receive your little arm gun...and it will be sliced off again in their final showdown...and he will also lose it at least once in the sequel (I plan on making it something of a running joke). I've never actually seen the show your referring to, as Kitetsu's new look was inspired by the daedric katana from the P.C. game Morrowind. Also, Praxis isn't really happy, is just that bitter sort of laugh you sometimes do when something really, really unexpected happens. Hope you like the chapter, and update your own story soon. Also did you get that e-mail that I sent you the other day? Computer's been a little...bothersome in that regard of late.

**Exardas- **Sorry to hear about what happened to that story that you liked. As far as this one is concerned, "oni" is a Japanese term for demon, I thought it might sound a little more...mysterious and dangerous than always calling D.J. a devil. Also, I hope you'll let me know what you think about this chapter, really not sure how well its going to go over as there are some major league AU stuff coming in here. Best of luck to ya in your own writings.

**TUG- **I'm sorry that you didn't like D.J.'s new form, but the reason that I changed how he looked will have to do mainly with a sub-plot I'm bringing in in this chapter, which will eventually explain the Channelers' origins, and how they are both more noble, and at the same time, more pitiable, for that. Also, rest assured that Errol's death, while somewhat humiliating and quite painful, will not involve him begging for his life in any way, form, or fashion, as it would likely be OOC for him. Errol...well...sociopathic as he is, he strikes me as the kind of person literally too proud to beg in such a fashion. Also, Jak will not get much satisfaction out of killing him, at least not for himself.

**Shakai- **Ouch, your little sibling lost your memory card? Had that happened in my house...and I say this strictly hypothetically, not that mine has done anything like that...(stares around nervously)...there would be a nice little imprint of my younger brother in his bedroom wall. Still, I'm glad that you liked D.J.'s new look, I'm going to hopefully be able to explain just what happened to him in this chapter. To answer you other question, yes the sequel will go into Jak3, but it will be somewhat AU. Hope you manage to find your card, it would suck to lose all that stuff...

**SRHumphrey727- **Glad that you liked the chapter, with the maiming and the killing and the exploding tanks. (laughs insanely). Did you get the picture/website address that I tried to send you, my hotmail's been known to act up, so I'm not sure. At any rate, hope you like this installment, and I pray I'm not getting in over my head here. And yes, God willing, there will be a sequel that will cover Jak 3.

**MariaShadow- **I am pleased that you and so many others like the makeover of out favorite Dark Eco demon, and I hope I can continue to serve up chapters that inspire such reactions. As to your question about Jynx...well, I'm not sure, I'll try to work it into here somehow, but that was mostly meant to be something of a one liner joke.

**Air of Mystery- **Glad you liked the flying demon of death. I never really liked L.J. that much, as will become obvious in this chapter...not sure why. (shrugs) At any rate, I hope you enjoy this installment, and I wish you the best of luck in your own writings.

**Light-Eco-Sage- **The picture is the same one hat I sent you way back in February with the rough draft of the last chapter. Still, I have a question/advice that I need to ask you, and I was wondering of there was a temporary e-mail address that I could send it to. And yes, the arm tossing was foreshadowing, as Errol will lose his left arm at least one more time before all is said and done. Sorry to hear that you still are having internet problems and I hope you can update your own stories as soon as possible.

**Every Heart Bleeds- **You're not far off on the loosening of bowels part hehe, And Jak/D.J. are going to get even badder before the tale is over, to say nothing of when they acquire Mar's armor early in the sequel that I'm planning.

To everyone else who did read, but did not review, I hope that you enjoyed the chapter, and that I may continue to please.

Lawyers: if you don't know the drill by now, you need to find another profession.

Also, I feel obligated to warn you people that there are several AU concepts being brought to the table this time around, and I'm really nervous about how they're going to be taken by you guys. If this chapter does suck, do not hesitate to tell me and I will take it down until I can get it fixed.

On a final note, I forgot to mention in the last chapter what I meant by D.J.'s voice being 'distorted'. If any of you have ever played any of the DMC games, it distorted in the sense of how Dante/Virgil sound in their devil forms.

That out of the way, here's chapter twenty four.

* * *

&

* * *

In Which a Blind Seer Does Some Explaining

He wasn't quite sure where he was, only that he seemed to have the distinct feeling of floating, and that everything seemed to be black, though he could still see just fine. He floated along like this, twisting about, for an unknown period of time, before he finally felt ground beneath his feet. At least, it felt like ground at any rate. The reason as to why he wasn't sure was simply that he hadn't bothered to look, as something else had occupied his attention.

It was the demon. It was before him, sitting on the ground, its head bowed and its legs crossed in lotus style, apparently meditating of all things. The dark elf stared at the creature for a while, listening to its rhythmic breathing, until it at last looked up at him, and opened its red eyes. As soon as it did so, it rose to one knee, and bowed before him.

Jak cocked an eyebrow, not sure what to make of this apparent gesture of servitude. At last, he found his voice, and began, for the first time, to converse with this strange being.

"What are you?" he inquired, staring at the oni.

"I am not sure of that myself." It rumbled in response. "I know only that I am spawned of you, and as such, I defend you and those dear to you."

"Is that why you're bowing before me?" the Channeler asked, still a little baffled over the current situation.

"I serve you as a warrior serves his lord." it affirmed, nodding its head slightly.

Jak remained silent, pondering this strange turn of events. He knew that what Errol had done to him…correction, them, had altered them somehow. He thought back, trying to piece everything together, and he suddenly could recall screams of men dying in agony and horror. He remembered the strange music of blaster fire and Kitetsu's singing as it cut down their opponents. And he remembered blood, it had been everywhere.

Still, Keira, Daxter, Samos and the others were safe, and that was all that mattered in the end. However, that meant he owed a rather large debt of gratitude to this demon, this…split personality?

"You need not thank me." it replied, as if it were able to read his mind. "I care for them as well, and would defend them to the death."

Surprisingly eloquent for what had started out as something of bestial intellect, the dark elf thought, before a strange notion entered his head.

"Do you," he paused for a moment, trying to figure out how best to say what he wanted to, "have a name?"

"I have thought about a title to set myself apart from others." the creature answered, before suddenly looking straight up at the dark elf, its hell fire eyes staring into him, though the stare did not possess the fury that had caused so many to cower in fear before it. "Kage."

Jak smirked as he translated the name. It was rather appropriate, considering the demon's nature. His smiled widened, and he nodded his head approvingly, which resulted in a grin appearing on the oni's own visage. As it did so, it also stood, unwrapping its wings from around itself in the process. Also, the dark elf felt a bizarre pull, like something was drawing him away from this place within his mind. Before anything else could be said, the image of his alter ego faded, and there was only blackness.

He became aware of other voices around him, and the feelings of sheets. Realizing what must have happened he went to open his eyes.

'_**You might want to be careful when you…'**_

However, Kage's warning was suddenly cut off as Jak felt a piercing light enter his vision, drowning out all else. He yelped in pain, and threw his arm across his field of vision in a desperate attempt to block out the burning sensation in the back of his eyeballs.

'_**Open your eyes.' **_the demon finished. '_**Our vision seems to have become a tad bit sensitive. Give it a moment or two and you'll get used to it.'**_

Sure enough, after a bit of blinking, his eyes adjusted, and he looked about. The room he was in was fairly nondescript, with Keira, Daxter, Samos, Tess, Torn, and Ashelin sitting around him, their expressions one of amazement and their conversations forgotten. He stared at them, somewhat confused as well.

"What?" he inquired, trying to figure out what was so interesting about him.

"Your eyes." Keira said, awed.

This only caused further confusion until someone managed to produce a fairly shinny piece of metal. The dark elf gazed in wonder at his reflection, and blinked several times. Still, what he saw did not change. His eyes remained as they were, looking like some kind of reptile or feline's. For an instant, a mural appeared in his mind's eye, and he saw an armored king, with eyes just as his were now.

"What in Mar's name?" was all he could mutter as he continued to stare.

"A very apt statement." Samos said suddenly, standing up from where he had been sitting down. "And one that I feel will be answered sooner than you might think." He added, before whispering something into Keira's ear and slipping out the door.

Shortly thereafter, Tess excused herself to go take care of something, and did Torn, with Ashelin providing him with some much needed help, as he wasn't used to crutches. As for why he was using such crude instruments to move around, well, worried as she had been over the elf that held her heart, Keira hadn't exactly gotten around to building him a new left leg.

"How long have I been out?" the Channeler inquired, looking at Keira.

"About two days." she answered, apparently somewhat relieved that he was alright.

"And to answer you next question, Jakky boy," Daxter put in, hoping up onto the bed where he was, "yes, we're in the Underground base."

"Why?" the dark elf asked somewhat confused.

"Apparently," Keira answered, "Praxis didn't decide to squeeze the location of this place out of Torn when he had the chance, so we thought it best to just stay holed up in here."

'_**An unwise move on his part', **_Kage mused, and Jak had the sudden mental image of the demon scratching his chin, '_**one that we should exploit at the earliest opportunity.'**_

"I agree." Jak said aloud, before he could think twice about it, and promptly stood up out of his bunk.

Keira and Daxter appeared somewhat confused again. However, before they could question the dark elf as to what he had meant, Jak suddenly stiffened, as if he was suddenly made aware of something. Indeed, that was the case. He had subconsciously ignored it when he had first awoken, the condition of his eyes and the need for a few pieces of information having a more pressing need. But now, not distracted by those, he could feel it, a subtle pulsing within himself, something that he had not felt since…

Vaguely aware that Keira and a certain rodent were asking him if something was wrong, he felt deep within himself, noticing that even though it had literally been years since he had practiced these skills, it was still far easier to locate than it had been before. He stretched out his hand, and willed the power to come forth.

And come forth it did, as a ball of darkness formed within his outstretched palm, before firing off into the wall of the room. It detonated, and in addition to all of the racket that it had made, had the result of leaving the room without a wall or a door.

The trio simply stood in place, the mechanic and the Ottsel staring at Jak, who in turn stared at his hand as if it were some sort of alien being. After a few seconds, drawn by the noise, others began to arrive, and carefully peeked their heads around the hole in the wall, not sure what they would find within.

Oblivious to their gazes, the Channeler slowly began to realize what this meant. True, his powers seemed to have changed, to say the least, but it was better than nothing. And then, just to be certain, he felt within himself again, and this time, purple lightning sprang from his hands, surging between his palms. From there, he found it a surprisingly small effort to will the Dark Eco to move to his command, and easily formed it into a twisting double helix.

For several seconds, this continued, as all present stared at him, the air itself seemingly hushed and anxiously awaiting what came next. Surprisingly enough, it would turn out to be laughter. It started out small, only as a chuckle, but swiftly grew in size, until tears were nearly streaming down Jak's cheeks. After another few seconds of this, he dispelled the lightning, and stared at his hands, a smile nearly splitting his face in two.

It was only natural, after all. If you were to take someone, and suddenly strip them of something that was part of their very nature for several years, they would be significantly changed. Then, if said person were to somehow gain what was taken back, even if it was different than it had been, it would only be natural for them to be quite elated.

The dark elf turned around to stare at Keira, his alien eyes practically glowing. It was a grin that she soon emulated. Daxter, meanwhile, noticing at how they were staring at each other, rolled his eyes, and began attempting to shoo the others away. Once he'd accomplished that, he turned around just in time to watch his two best friends lean in close to each other, and share a quick kiss.

The diminutive rodent simply crossed his arms, and smiled.

* * *

"So why exactly did ole grass stain want us to come down here, anyway?" Daxter inquired, staring around the science/med bay that was located deep within the bowels of the Underground base.

Not fifteen minutes after Jak was up and walking about, Keira had brought them all down here, without giving them time to so much as grab a bite to eat. Needless to say, this course of action had not boded well with Daxter, who was himself a creature of instincts when it came time for him to be hungry. As a result, the Ottsel was in something of a bad mood.

"I'm not really sure." Keira answered with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Well, knowing him, it's probably got something to do with my condition." Jak mused, his head bowed in thought.

'_**The old one confuses me.' **_Kage 'said' suddenly, his consciousness coming to the forefront of the Channeler's mind. _**'He speaks in riddles, and acts as if he knows something that the rest of us do not.'**_

'_He's always been like that.'_ Jak responded. _'Even back in Sandover, I always got the notion that he knew a lot more about things than what he proclaimed to.'_

'_**Speak of the Devil.' **_the oni muttered.

For it was at that moment that Samos himself walked in, looking as haggard and rough as he ever was. Jak nodded in acknowledgement of the Sage's presence, while Keira once more embraced her adoptive father. Daxter, however, simply crossed his arms, and began tapping his foot impatiently.

"So, bark breath," he remarked with a frown, "what was so important as to have to drag us down here now?"

"I felt that Jak had the right to know a little bit more about himself, and what he's become." Samos growled, his voice indicating that he had not taken kindly to the Ottsel's insult.

"Would have been so hard to let us some breakfast, log for brains?" the diminutive rodent shot back. "I mean…"

Whatever Daxter was going to say was swiftly cut off, as Samos put his Ottsel smacking talents to use again, a well placed blow from his staff sending the rodent screaming through the air.

A door suddenly slid open, and out stepped the Shadow, Torn, and Ashelin.

"How should I know what the old coot called us in for?" the younger Samos remarked, throwing his arms out.

As luck would have it, that particular gesture would result in Daxter getting hit once again, this time propelling him straight across the room. And then, as if someone upstairs really, really hated the little guy, a second, more conventional door opened, courtesy of Delta Sixty Seven, and walloped the rodent for a third time. Careening through the air back to where Jak and Keira were, he smashed into a view screen, sticking to it for a few seconds before he slid down to the counter top.

Everyone stood stock still for the most part, not noticing that Jynx was holding the door for a certain ages old seer, or the blond haired elf that came in after her. All eyes were on the elder Samos, as the newcomers pondered what had just happened, while the dark elf and the mechanic exchanged glances. It was then, that the old sage went and did something that was quite surprising to say the least.

"Yeeeessssss!" he shouted, pumping his fist into the air, and staring around triumphantly. "I've still got the touch!"

"Daddy," Keira replied, looking down at Daxter, who was currently picking himself up, still somewhat woozy, "was that really necessary?"

"Relax, dearest," the old elf remarked, "I hit him on the head to make certain that I wouldn't cause any permanent damage."

This resulted in Daxter lifting up a hand, and shaking a fist in what he believed to be the general direction of the Green Sage.

'_**The small one is surprisingly resilient considering his size.' **_Kage said inside of Jak's head, his voice sounding somewhat amused.

However, Tess quickly came over and removed the Ottsel from where he was, ensuring that the 'nasty old man' could inflict no further harm for the moment upon Daxter. Smirking at the sudden position in which the Ottsel found himself, the dark elf nonetheless quickly returned his attention to Samos, who seemed to be the only one to really know what was going on here. Right on cue, he began his explanation.

"I know that you are all somewhat curious as to why I have called you here," he said, looking around to them all, "suffice to say, that it pertains to you, Jak…"

"And no doubt that thing that's inside of him." the Shadow stated, looking somewhat nervous about the situation.

"Kage." Jak said abruptly, before anyone else could get a word in.

"Excuse me?" the resistance leader asked, not fully understanding.

"Wait a minute," Ashelin said, holding out her hands and shaking them slightly, "you named it?"

"He named himself." Jak answered, stressing the first and last words in his remark, so that all present would get his meaning. "He's not an animal, Ashelin." he said, wishing to further explain what he meant, "He's a sentient creature. He thinks, he learns, he has feelings and emotions, everything that we possess."

There was a very pregnant silence following that little tidbit of information. Fortunately, Samos was able to quickly get attention focused back on him.

"I asked for Onin to come here," he said, gesturing to the seer, "so that she could better explain the situation, and I'm pretty certain that Jak has some questions for her."

Aware that all eyes were upon him, Jak thought carefully, and finally decided on something to break the ice, so to speak.

"What happened to me back in the Fortress?" he inquired, crossing his arms over his chest.

As it had been when he had been in her tent, a veritable 4th of July display suddenly began to appear in thin air, and Pecker, ever the faithful familiar, began to translate.

"What was started was finished." the monkeet said, before continuing. "You have completed your transformation, Dark One, and have become what you were born to be."

"I beg your pardon?" Jak said, a dictionary definition of the 'baffled look' upon his face.

Once again, the symbols filled the air.

"You know of your heritage as a Channeler, what makes you unique, do you not?" Pecker translated.

"I've got Precursor blood in my veins." Jak answered, stating what was common knowledge.

"Correct," Pecker stated, raising a wing as Onin signed, "you are descended from elven/Precursor hybrids, it is that blood that gives Channelers' their ability to wield Eco as they can. However, sometimes, things happen in the genes, and a mutation will occur."

"A mutation?" Keira asked, her curious nature taking over.

Symbols met her query, and Pecker was on the job, as usual.

"Channelers are normally capable of wielding all the different varieties of Eco with equal proficiency." The familiar stated. "However, as you doubtlessly saw in the Tomb, the Precursors themselves tended to be more oriented towards a single type. It is a rarity, but occasionally, for some unknown reason, a Channeler will emerge that will have this type of natural orientation."

He paused dramatically, peering around at everyone, his eyes half closed. "They were sometimes called Ascended Channelers, because they appeared to be able to more closely emulate the abilities of the Ancients, gaining more power, at the cost of only being able to wield a single type. Though," he added, almost as an afterthought, "they are able to use that one type in a greater variety of ways than normal ones can."

"How much power are we talking about here?" Torn inquired, his gaze floating back and forth between the dark elf and the familiar.

"Ever heard of the phrase 'army of one?'" Pecker responded, smiling when the Delta nodded. "Well, now you how it got started."

The monkeet stopped again after that, looking back over his shoulder to Onin, whose blind gaze was once again piercing the dark elf. She etched a few more symbols in the air, slowly this time, and Pecker then put words to what everyone was beginning to realize.

"You are one such Channeler, Jak, one of darkness." Pecker finished.

"But I've used other kinds before…" Jak said, before Pecker cut him off.

"But, if you will recall, you found yourself unable to use other types not long after your injections began, no?" the monkeet stated, smirking triumphantly as Jak slowly nodded his head. "That is because after being exposed to that particular element, your body, shall we say, became rather reluctant to part with it."

Those present seemed somewhat confused, and with a weary sigh, the familiar rolled his eyes and proceeded to once more explain what it was that Onin was trying to get across.

"Okay," he groaned, putting a wing to his forehead, "I will explain this very slowly, especially for the sake of rat boy over there." he gestured to Daxter, who shot him a venomous look in return. "Have you never wondered, Jak, that despite how much of that stuff you have left dripping all over the ground as you bled, how much your inner demon has unleashed upon your foes, why you have never needed to absorb more Dark Eco?"

"The thought has crossed my mind a few times." Jak conceded, wondering where this was going.

"That is because your body now turns that stuff out like a stinking manufacturing plant." the monkeet replied in a superior tone.

"Okay," Keira began, looking at the seer and her familiar as if they were both nuts, "first, how is that possible, and second, if he's body's been making this stuff, why did these changes only happen after that last treatment."

"Weeeelllll," Pecker remarked, scratching the back of his head nervously, "the best answer I can give you in regards to your first question is a guess, an educated one mind you and doubtless better than anything you'd be able to think of on your own."

"So spill it, banana breath!" Daxter remarked, apparently having recovered from his trauma sufficiently to hurl insults.

"I'm getting to that!" the familiar retorted, glaring at the rodent. "As I was going to say before I was rudely interrupted, the best answer I can give you, Keira, is that the Precursor DNA in Jak's genetic code has more dominance than it normally does, thus making his abilities more akin to theirs." the monkeet said with a shrug. "As for your second…well, let's just say that when Errol made the remark about the Dark Eco being concentrated, he wasn't kidding." He finished with a weak laugh, almost instantly silenced by a multitude of death glares. However, he quickly recomposed himself, and finished. "It pushed Jak to the necessary point, in a sense, completing his body's transformation."

"And the reason that I can only now Channel without letting Kage out?" Jak prompted, his alien eyes staring at the blind seer, while getting a few strange looks.

Onin answered in her usual fashion, and once again, Pecker was her mouthpiece.

"As she just had me tell you, you were incomplete." the familiar said, scratching his head once more. "You were sort of, you might say, stuck at the halfway point, not fully able to wield you new powers, and unable to take advantage of your old ones. I would also like to add that your transformed state was also imperfect and as a result, deformed. Which was why it looked like a failed mad science experiment."

'_**I take offense at that.' **_Kage growled ominously, his tone given Jak the impression of someone who had just had his honor slandered.

"I'd be a little more cautious with my words, Pecker." Jak remarked, opting to Channel some more Dark Eco between his hands, riveting everyone's attention upon himself. "Keep talking like that, and Kage might just develop a sudden taste for poultry."

Tess and Daxter stifled some respective giggles, while the monkeet's visage became several shades whiter, and a very audible nervous gulp came from his throat. Fortunately, before the situation could become any more awkward, Onin began signing once more, her gestures rapid and precise.

"Onin wishes to see Kitetsu one more time." Pecker said, his voice somewhat shaky after Jak's 'threat.'

The dark elf reached back, and unsheathed the blade, before walking forward and presenting it to the soothsayer, hilt first. With a single deft movement, she snatched it from him, running her hands over the weapon as she did all those months ago when Jak had met her for the 'first time'. Her fingers made their way to the end of the hilt, and to the surprise of all, felt around, fiddling with something they could not see for a second or two. The next thing they knew, she had managed to pop the end of the hilt off, and it clattered to the floor.

Jak stared, amazed by what he saw. There was a strange slot like area in the butt end of the grip, almost as if something was meant to be inserted there. Then it hit him, his mind flashed back to the statue in the sewers, of the strange protrusion that Mar's blade has possessed. He stared at Onin intently, watching with a sort of anxious anticipation for what happened next.

The blind prophetess reached down, and opened a pouch that she had around her waist. Then, with her own powers, levitated a strange crystal out of it. Instantly, the dark elf felt his blood react to this thing, whatever it was. The rock was a strange, translucent purple, and it was angular, shaped almost like a rather jagged icicle, except for the slight curve at the end. It was also somewhat small, being about two inches in length.

"A Dark Eco crystal!" the Shadow breathed in awe, his mouth flopping open while his older counterpart merely rolled his eyes.

For the moment, no one thought to question as to just where and how the ancient elf had managed to scrounge that thing up, and watched as with a few waves of her right hand, she connected sword and crystal. Almost instantly, there was a humming sound, and a pulse filled the air, as dark electricity surged over the blade's length, while the runes suddenly began to glow a violet color.

Onin withdrew the hand that had been holding the katana, her powers keeping the blade levitating. Her blind gaze fell on Jak, who felt some strange compulsion come over him. Not knowing what to expect, he stuck out his hand, and to the surprise of all, it flew unerringly towards him, and he clasped his hand around it. The crystal, perhaps due to its small size, or something else, was nearly weightless, and it took only a few experimental swings to get the new balance of the weapon down. Also, none missed the strange distortions the dark katana seemed to leave now in its wake, as if it were cutting the air itself.

Still gazing at the blade in awe, the Channeler looked back at Onin, his gaze one of a person who was expecting an explanation for what was going on. She was apparently happy to comply, waving her hands about as she weaved her symbols through the air.

"Kitetsu truly is a blade of darkness." Pecker said, tapping his feathers together. "And due to some unknown technology, the Precursors were even able to make the weapon sentient to a degree."

Confused stares met the monkeet, and he went on to explain what Onin had meant.

"That is what drew you to it in the first place, Jak," the familiar said as the blind seer stared into him again, "it sensed you, and felt within you the makings of someone who could wield it to its fullest potential. That is why it called out to you, it wanted to be used again."

"You'll pardon me," Jak remarked, a frown suddenly making its way across his face, "if I find this entirely too convenient for my liking. I mean, me just happening to stumble across a weapon like this that just happens to react with my nature. Would you care to give me the odds on that?"

Flashing symbols met his query, and pecker groaned suddenly, massaging his mouth. Sighing, he proceeded to do his job.

"Onin is unsure as to how Kitetsu arrived in Dead Town, it is a mystery that eludes even one such as she." he paused for a moment, throwing in his theatrics yet again. "However, as to why Kitetsu reacted to you, it was because it sensed in you what it sensed in its last true master, and I think we all know who that is." he remarked suddenly, crossing his wings. "After all, this city only considers him something of a saint and savior."

"Wait a minute," Jynx said, entering the conversation for the first time, "are you saying that blondie here, is…"

"Jak is what Mar was." Pecker confirmed.

To say that this little revelation sent a proverbial shockwave through those present, would have been very accurate. For several moments, nothing was said, as everyone attempted to comprehend what they had just been told.

"And the reason that no one knows this would be?" Ashelin asked, raising an eyebrow.

Once again, Onin wrote in the air, and her familiar began to translate what she said.

"Onin says that it is interesting what history chooses to forget." He said with a smirk.

"Then just how do you know about it, oh mystical one?" Daxter said, stretching out slightly as Tess scratched him behind his ears. "I mean, I realize that you could theoretically be that old, but still…"

The Ottsel's sudden stop was caused by the seer that he was addressing, who was giving him a glare that would have caused Baron Praxis himself to gulp nervously.

"I guess age must be a universal thing among women." Jynx muttered to Torn, and the other Delta snorted, only to be promptly thwaped over the head by Ashelin.

"Onin knows because certain ancient texts tell of Mar being able to summon forth dark lighting and hurl balls of black energy at his adversaries." Pecker said, staring around at everyone, and attempting to get the meeting back on track. "They say how 'no mortal weapon' could slay him, and," he said pausing one more time, and smirking, "some say, that when battles became desperate, how the king's power would become as a devil incarnate, and how nothing could stand against him as such."

Keira and Jak suddenly looked at each other, remembering the same thing. They remembered a mural, in which a winged demon stood at the front of an elven army, its wings and blades spread wide in challenge to the advancing Hora-quan, and how Mar's eyes had been slitted in the picture that had shown him unmasked.

This revelation definitely put a new light on things.

* * *

Some time passed, and eventually, duty had called for all except the original quartet, and Tess. Onin and Pecker were still there as well, though it looked as if they were about to leave.

The blond elf and Daxter made flirtatious remarks to each other, the Ottsel's hunger apparently forgotten, while Keira and her father basically just talked about things, trying to catch up after all that had happened. Jak, stood by himself, twirling his blade, pondering the course that things had taken.

Towards the end of the conversation, Samos' younger self had made the remark that Onin made it sound as if it were the dark elf that was going to be the one to fulfill the ancient prophesy, rather than Alexander. The old seer's reply had only further confused them, a guarantee that Alex would play out his role in things, while assuring them that the boy was unharmed.

She had also advised that the Channeler and his friends pay a little visit to a certain talking statue. When asked for a reason, she simply pointed to the katana that Jak held.

He looked back up, and saw her heading for the door, apparently not needing her sight to navigate her way through the place. Abruptly, the dark elf detached himself from the wall he was leaning against, walked up to her, and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. Wordlessly, the blind woman had turned around, her expression one of resignation, as if she already knew what Jak was going to ask.

"I'd like to know one more thing, Onin." he said slowly, before deciding that it was now or never. "I'd almost forgotten about it until I saw my past back in the Tomb. Errol said that he'd been waiting for me…how?"

Pecker shuffled his feet nervously, and sent a silent prayer that the old soothsayer had been right in her proclamation that the elf was no longer as hate filled as he had been. After all, he hadn't forgotten the subtle threat that Jak had slipped him when he had insulted the devilish entity running around inside of his head. So it was with a justifiable amount of uneasiness, that Pecker began to translate as Onin signed once more.

"Onin says that…" the familiar gulped, and mentally prepared himself for the next life, "she is the one responsible for that."

Conversations suddenly stopped, and all eyes were upon the trio. All of the reactions were different. Daxter halted in mid joke, his mouth flapping open, Tess' eyes were bugged out, and there was a clatter as Samos' staff hit the floor, all his gruff dignity forgotten in the wake of yet another earth shattering revelation. As for Keira, she too was thunderstruck, and her hands slowly clenched into fists as flames began to crackle in her eyes.

The most surprising reaction of all though, came from Jak himself, who simply blinked once in sudden surprise, and went silent for a few seconds, his strange eyes slowly closing as he digested this bit of information. Finally after an eternity of silence broken only by Pecker's knees knocking together, he spoke a single word, his voice more confused than angry.

"Why?"

Her head bowed, Onin traced out a few symbols in the air, and then nudged her familiar with her foot when he became reluctant to find a voice for her.

"Sometimes," Pecker said, gulping nervously before somehow summoning up the will to continue, "for the sake of many, one must suffer. Onin, ex-extends her sincerest apologies, Jak, but, but there was no other way."

The monkeet then braced himself for what he believed would be certain death. However, after several seconds passed, and he found that he was still by all senses, alive, he dared to open one eye.

Jak had his head bowed, his chin upon his chest as he apparently mulled something over in his mind.

'_Is this forever to be my fate?' _he thought, memories of his battles in Sandover coming back to him, the agonies that he had endured there flashing before himself and his guardian devil. '_To have to forever suffer for others?'_

'_**One would think you had already done enough of that for a lifetime' **_Kage said, his voice somber. _**'Still, one thing does puzzle me, though.'**_

'_What would that be?' _the dark elf inquired, curious about what his alter ego was on to.

'_**I do not understand why Praxis would believe her.' **_He rumbled, his mental image scratching his head with one of his wing talons._** 'Is it customary among elves to naturally take the word of blind old ladies without question?' **_

'_No, it isn't.' _Jak thought, before adding a voice to the oni's question.

To this, Onin simply flashed a crooked smile at the Channeler, and replied in her usual fashion, which Pecker, still somewhat uneasy, but becoming more optimistic about his chances of getting out of the base alive, translated.

"Onin says that she was not always a blind old elf who peddles her skills to people with trivial problems. Once, she was something more." he said, which got him some confused stares.

However, Onin apparently felt that she had answered the query sufficiently, and turned around, leaving the room, and leaving its occupants to look back and forth amongst each other in wonder.

* * *

It was later that day, that Krimzon Guard corporal Benton Davis and his squad were on patrol near the waterfront slums, a routine duty that they'd been doing every day for the past several months. However, all of that was about to change in a few seconds, as one of his men spotted something.

"Hey," one of his troopers said, and he turned to see the girl, a private first class, pointing at something, "that's him, that's the guy!"

The corporal followed the f.p.s' gesture, and found Haven's Most Wanted making his way through the crowd, a couple of elves following him, both of them high ranking Underground members as well, not to mention that little orange rat that always seemed to be at his heels.

"So it is…I wonder what he's doing out here." Benton muttered, already knowing what he was going to do. "Still, at any rate, we're not getting involved."

"What?" was the virtually unanimous outburst from his soldiers.

In response, Benton merely shook his head and sighed. These guys with him were fresh out of basic, and he was the only one to have ever actually seen combat, even it had just been a few square offs with Metal Head patrols. They had yet to learn to temper their zeal to serve with the practicality of their orders, and it was up to him to teach them that valuable lesson.

"Look," he said, facing his squad mates while he walked over to a building, "you've heard the rumors leaking out of the Fortress, right?"

He was met with affirmative nods, and then went on to explain his logic.

"So," he drawled, "if that guy can turn into something out of a bad dream and wipe us out by the dozens without even trying, what in the name of the Precursors makes you think that we're going to be able to take him on with just the six of us?"

There was a scratching of feet and a general murmuring among the others, before the female soldier that had spoken first spoke again.

"But we have out orders…" she began.

"And feel free to try and carry them out, I won't try to stop you. As for me though," the corporal said, leaning back against the building he was next to, "I like life."

"So, then, what do we do?" a third person muttered.

"We act like we didn't see anything." the squad leader replied.

The rawer soldiers looked back and forth amongst themselves, apparently having learned that discretion was indeed the better part of valor.

* * *

They walked inside, and the Oracle remained where it had been when Jak had first entered after his hunt with Sig, unmoved and apparently untouched.

_Greetings to you all, brave ones. _said the voice of the statue, its eyes glowing eerily as they had before, causing Keira and Samos to exchange looks with each other. _I sense that you have found your balance, Dark One, and it seems as though you have finally realized the truth about yourself. _

"I've got you to thank for that." Jak responded, smiling as he removed a pair of sunglasses, as he had thought it wise to hide his new…acquisitions from the general public.

_I require no thanks, Channeler. _it said, pausing for a moment before it continued. _I sense the blade of darkness with you as well, and I ask you, do you know why you are here this time?_

"We were told you might know some things about Kitetsu." Keira said, having apparently gotten over the shock of this new experience.

_I do indeed, young elf, more than one might think._ it answered, before explaining itself. _But in order for you to understand what it is I know, you must realize what I am._

"Could you cut to the chase, Rocky?" Daxter said, somewhat irritated by all the riddles he'd had to put up with all day.

_I am a construct of the Ancients, a Holocron. _It said.

There was a deafening silence and Jak could have sworn that he heard a few crickets chirp for a couple of seconds.

_In layman's terms, I am a computer designed to hold and store specific types of data, and then transfer it directly into a target's mind. _the 'statue' rumbled, and Keira's eyes suddenly bulged outward, apparently comprehending what it meant.

"Another computer?" Daxter muttered incredulously.

"What can you say?" Samos responded, shrugging. "Apparently, the Precursors liked computers."

_Stored within my databanks is a special set of files that Mar had me record in regards to Kitetsu. _the construct continued, undeterred by the Sage's and Ottsel's comments.

"Such as?" Jak prompted, raising an eyebrow.

_Information regarding attack techniques and abilities that the sword itself possesses. _Came the reply, before the Oracle continued. _The Dark Eco crystal in the hilt allows for the blade to supplement its own wielder's skills with those of its own._

'_**Hmmm, sounds useful.' **_Kage mused, to which Jak agreed. _**'But such power cannot be limitless.'**_

_You would be correct in that assessment, demon._ the Oracle stated, and only Jak had the privilege of watching the oni's face bear the look of the utmost surprise. _However, while the crystal's power is limited, it can be recharged._

"How?" Jak inquired, drawing the weapon and staring at it.

_It is now capable of absorbing Dark Eco through the blade, through either the environment, or out of a creature carrying the substance within it. _the construct answered.

"Note to self," Jak said with a grimace, "make certain not to get stabbed with own blade."

"No kidding." Keira remarked, gulping.

_The other knowledge I possess is of a fighting style that Mar created, but deemed too dangerous to pass on to others._

"What, in case it 'fell into the wrongs hands?'" Daxter remarked, rolling his eyes.

_No, because of the danger to the wielder if the techniques are performed improperly. _the Oracle said, finally starting to sound somewhat irritated with the Ottsel. _Rest assured, Mar was very apt when he named the Juyo style._

"Juyo?" Jak inquired, translating the older elvish language with a strange look upon his face. "Blade-Storm?"

'_**I like the sound of that.' **_Kage said, sounding eager to see what it offered.

_Now, Dark One, _the Oracle said, _I will warn you in advance that this will feel somewhat uncomfortable, just so you know._

That was all the warning that the Channeler got before images suddenly began to explode through his head. In the passing of a few seconds, he saw the armored king using Kitetsu in maneuvers that would have caused most to flee from sheer intimidation if performed correctly, or that could have resulted in severe bodily harm if one screwed them up. He also witnessed Haven's first ruler unleash the dark katana's abilities, and his own. They too, left him in awe.

And then it was over, though he spent several moments trying to get his brain back together, as having such information 'downloaded' into his memory was certainly a new experience, and while not painful, left him with the feeling of having pulled all-nighters for a good week.

With Kage it was much the same, as the demon's eyes twitched and rolled about, as did his head.

'_**Information…overload.'**_ he muttered, suddenly clutching his skull.

_The feeling will pass shortly, Dark One, _the Oracle stated matter of factly, _though I would suggest you practice what you have learned. You may have the knowledge of how to use Kitetsu to its fullest, but it is not the same as actual training. _

"And I think I know how you can do that." Samos sudden interjected, drawing all eyes back to him. "I need for you to help me retrieve something from a shrine that is smack in the middle of Dead Town."

"You mean?" Keira began, getting a somber nod from her father.

"Yes, Keira," the old sage said, his voice suddenly sounding older, "that very same place."

"What are you two talking about that we don't know about?" Daxter said, once again irritated about his lack of knowledge.

"Something you guys need to see." was all that Keira said, and Jak could have sworn that he saw the shimmer of a tear in her eye.

* * *

&

* * *

Okay, (takes a moment to compose), I have the sinking feeling that there are a multitude of lethal objects being pointed in my general direction at the current moment, and I cannot say that I blame you in this respect.

For those of you who might be wondering, yes, this means that there effectively will NOT be ANY Light Jak in the sequel. There WILL however, be someone using Light Eco, and I assure you that it will not be an OC.

Also, I will go into further detail in the later chapters about the whole Channeler heritage deal. In fact, a certain Leader of the Metal Heads will be the one to explain what possessed them to suddenly decide to start breeding with an entirely different species that was, at least at the time, little more than nomads still trying to figure out the concept of the bow and arrow.

That said, I wish you all a good day, and I think I will start running now.


	25. Ab Memoria

(Emerges with multiple high level protection spells cast)

Hiya, everyone, don't mind the barriers, I've got some relatives down from the northern states for a week an a half, and things have been a little crazy, and my little brother going even more off the wall than what is normal is not helping things in the slightest.

On a very important note, I cannot believe I forgot to put this in with the last chapter, but Kage means "shadow," and I thought it might be an appropriate name for our little demon. Along similar fashion, the chapter title means "In Memory of," provided that I haven't totally forgotten the Latin I've been trying to learn. If I have made a screw up, please point it out to me, and I will correct it.

Also, to those of you who reviewed.

**Lunatic Pandora1- **Ahhh, good old Knights, never managed to play the first one, but I do own the second one, and it rocks. (though I have always wondered why one cannot make a double bladed sabre and then make it to where you can break it into two when you need to, as it would be quite useful, and not to hard to do, I think.) Also, trust me, you will be able to notice a difference when Jak really gets to using Juyo (his first victim will be Errol), and I threw down a few hints in this chapter, though one would proabably have to be versed in Ninja Gaiden to pick up the clue. At any rate, thanks for your input, and I hope that you like this chapter.

**Xeno-Freak- **I'm glad that you were able to understand the explanation of why Jak has changed, and thank you for pointing out that I failed to provide a translation for what Kage meant. I'm also glad that you enjoyed the little tid-bit between the Krimzon Guards, and rest assured, Benton will be making a couple more appearances in this tale. As for the restoration of Jak's powers, well, I don't think I've ever read a fic in which he actually manages to get them back. And let's face it, Dark Side-ish like powers are so much cooler than a gun. (cackles insanely)

**ChibiSess- **Glad you liked the old slit eye trick, I always thought it'd be kinda funny to screw around with Jak's anatomy like that, and yes, I realize I'm weird. As far as his shades are concerned, think of them as the kind Neo was wearing in the second matrix movie, whatever brand that was. Also, I worship you for decided to draw that picture, (gets down upon knees and proceeds to do so), and I hope that I provided a good idea for what Mar's armor looks like. One thing has me puzzled though, what did you mean by the DA forums? I don't really understand what it is that you were talking about, could you clarify?

**Of Darkness- **Glad you liked the changes to Jak, and that you have not yet attempted to destroy my newly flash cloned, and I might add, very expensive, body. As to your question regarding the transformation, I regret to say that I have no answer. When I started this story, I had planned on explaining that along the same lines that Dante is able to go to his demon form and back without any apparent fashion problems. Unfortunately, despite six months of cruising the net, attempting to locate the reason behind that, I have been unsuccessful, and it is bugging the holy (censored) outta me! Not helping is the fact that plot holes are one of my pet peeves, (one reason I was so irritated at the third game), and having one in my story is just another reminder of how much my author skills need improving. So, I extend my humblest apologies, and hopefully I will be able to track down the answer that I seek soon enough.

**animedragongirl**- I'm glad that you've decided to spare my life, and I am so sorry for the errors in the story, one of these days, I have got to get a beta reader. On another note, like I said, there will be someone with light sided powers, and I'm going to do my best to improve things a bit, (such as this person being able to use her wings as Tyrael did in Diablo 2, in which he grabs Satan himself around the foot with one of them, and proceeds to toss him into a wall). Also, tried my best to spot any errors that might be in this one, but if there are, feel free to blast me with an Ultima spell.

**Philoworm- **(trips over roadblock) ouch...oh well, at least there were no anvils involved this time. Glad you liked my attempt at explaining exactly what was happening with Jak and company. Also, Daxter's troubles are not over yet, as the chapter after this one will reveal, but he'll manage to get out of them like he always does, though I cannot guarantee that he won't wet his fur. As far as names for the dark attacks are concerned, I still need them, and some ideas for other dark powers would be greatly appreciated as well. Thanks for your input, and I hope that you like this chapter as well.

**Shakai- **I've said it before, and I'll say it again: why, N.D., why oh why did you have our hero go from having the ability to throw out energy blasts from his hands to a mere gun? (sighs). Oh well, I suppose we'll never know. At any rate, Jak will begin using the Juyo style soon enough, once he gets comfortable with it, because as you pointed out, one mishap and...well, it won't be pretty, hehe. Hope you like this chapter, and please let me know what you thought. (bows)

**just another writer- **Yeah, Jak is getting stronger, for reasons that the Metal Head Leader will explain, and rest assured, he will be a worthy opponent for the dark elf, not that pushover that he was in the second game (for Pete's sake, KREW put up more of a struggle than he did! What is up with that?). Also, sorry to say this, but Sig is not the light user, though you are right, it would be funny as heck. Instead, it will be someone a little closer to Jak, if you know what I mean.

**Paska- **Yeah, I know how you feel, I keep getting dragged off to do things I really don't want to do, either. Also, thank, you, for giving me the idea, and all the others that you've given me, this story just wouldn't be the same without them. I hope you enjoy your break all the same, though, as it can't possibly be worse than school.

**myeerah- **I'm not really certain why a lot of the writers, myself included, think of D.J. as being something else, probably because he's just so different, but I'm not really sure in the end. (shrugs). As to my treatment of him, well, for some reason, when I saw the way in which he fought, there was something in it that just reminded me of a samurai, for some reason, as his style is brutal and savage, but I found something strangely noble about it at the same time. That, and it could very well have been how he would be, as the game never really went into detail about what exactly he was. At any rate, I'm glad you've liked it, and I hope to be able to continue to please.

**daxter the otsel- **I hope that you've been enjoying your summer, and that everything's been going your way. I'm delighted to hear that you started writing your own story, and I hope to be able to read it soon. Also, along that line, did you receive the e-mail that I tried to send you? My computer's been known to act up in that fashion, so I'm not really sure if it made it all the way. Best of luck to you in your writings, and don't forget the details.

**Exardas- **Hehe, thought you might like that, and I'm glad that you enjoyed the chapter. As to you're request about AnimeRedneckSC, I went to ficwad and checked out his DMC/HP crossover, and I must say that I am impressed, as he's doing a great job. It's a shame that the rules on this sight are getting so strict, but I guess that's just he way the world works. Along those lines, I do not intend to do anything to try and bring administrative punishment down upon my head, (heck, if I wanted to do that, I'd just get my parents angry at me, hehe). At any rate, hope you like the installment that I've managed to cook up, and I wish you luck and good fortune in your own writings.

**SRHumphrey727-** Glad that you liked the modifications that I gave to both Jak's appearance and his powers, (and let it be known that one of your guesses is right). Hope you like the picture, and as to running like hell, I am doing so like Pipin in LOTR when the Balrog was chasing them!

**DarkStarPhoenix- **Sorry to hear about your computer, and I can sympathize with you about the school ones, (mine as a few of the old macs that still have green and black screens with no software, though thankfully most are in storage like the relics that they are). Also, thank you very much for the constructive criticism, I'll do my best to try and cut out redundancies and diversify my language a bit. Also, sorry about the elimination of Light Jak, but there will be someone filling in his role, and it will not be that Precursor OC that I created. The Praetor, a.k.a. Tarath, is anything but a Light Eco user. As to what he does use, well, ChibiSess or Farr2rich could tell you more, but I plan on going into more detail about the workings of the Precursor military than Jak 3 did, not that that is saying a whole lot. Suffice to say that the final battle of the third game fic will be a showdown between the remnants of the Precursors and their fallen brethren. Also, if you read really carefully about the mural scene in Mar's Tomb, there's something of an irony there, as the Ancients use color coded armor to tell who uses what kind of Eco. All in all, thank you once again for everything, and I hope that you enjoy this chapter. (bows humbly)

To those who read but did not review, I hope that you liked what you saw, and that you are not currently planning to murder me for my lack of talent.

Lawyers: I no own, you no sue, can we come to that understanding? Good.

Another advanced warning, there is romance in this chapter, and I've never been really good at writing that sort of thing, so if it sucks, I apologize.

That said, here is the next chapter.

* * *

&

* * *

Ab Memoria

Two days had passed since their little trip into Dead Town, and Jak had become distant once again, though Keira couldn't exactly blame him. She had reacted no differently upon seeing that shrine for the first time, upon finding out exactly what had happened when they'd used the Rift Rider and crash landed in this place. Still, she was worried about him though. Afraid that despite everything, that he might slip back into his old ways.

Which was why she was currently trekking around the Underground base, looking for him, as she had been doing all day. No one knew where to find the dark elf, or they were too busy to help her look. Her father was still attempting to teach his younger self how to focus his newfound powers, and Ashelin and Torn, who was still moving about on crutches, were planning the next attempts to pry Praxis off of the throne. As for Jynx, his two friends had been contacted, and they'd wholeheartedly committed themselves to the cause. The Delta himself was currently busy teaching a class he had affectionately nicknamed 'demolitions 101,' and he had quite a following of students.

That just left Tess and Daxter, whom she had finally managed to locate. The two of them had been in an otherwise abandoned room, and were flirting, which she did not find surprising in the least bit, considering Daxter's nature. It was Tess that astonished her, as having grown up with Daxter, she didn't really understand what it was that the blond haired elf saw in the Ottsel. Then again, her heart currently belonged to an elf that had slitted eyes, bled Dark Eco, and was in possession of a demonic alter ego who seemed to be smitten with a case of chivalry, so she didn't exactly have a whole lot of room to be talking.

Nonetheless, she needed to find the Channeler, so she cleared her throat, getting the attention of the other two. They looked up to her, somewhat irritated that their little session together had just been interrupted, but relieved that it had only been her that had caught them.

"Have either of you seen Jak?" she inquired, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Funny you should mention him." Daxter remarked, getting up off of his stomach. "He said he was heading out and told me to tell you that he was 'where he had made a 'stupid decision,' or something like that."

"Did he say why he was going out?" the mechanic asked.

"Said something about needed to get used to using that new weapon style that that googly eyed Precursor thingy-ma-bob gave to him." the Ottsel replied, shrugging his shoulders.

She said her thanks, and left the pair to resume their previous activity. As she left, she quickly made her way to her own temporary quarters/workshop area, and grabbed a hover board, her gear, and her morph-gun. However, as she dashed back out, she ran into Jynx…quite literally.

"Jeez, Keira, watch where you're going!" the Delta growled, picking himself up off of the floor.

"Sorry, Jynx." the mechanic mumbled as she got back to her feet as well.

The Delta turned around, heading off to do whatever it was he was planning on doing before bumping into her. It was then that she remembered that she had been meaning to ask him something, something that would be very critical to her next project in the weapons development area.

"Hey, Jynx," she said, causing him to turn back around, and look at her, "I've been meaning to ask you something."

"So ask." was his reply as he cocked his head to one side.

"I was wondering…if…errr…" she didn't quite know how to say this, "I could borrow your armor?"

To her surprise, the soldier merely raised an eyebrow while a look of confusion made its way over his face.

"Why would you want it?" he asked, scratching his head. "It's not like you can fit into that stuff."

"No, no, you've got it all wrong." She replied, shaking her head. "I wanted to try giving it some upgrades that I've been working on.

Instantly, Delta Sixty Seven's eyes lit up, and she knew without a shadow of a doubt, that she'd gotten his attention.

"What kind of upgrades are we talking about here?" Jynx inquired, his tone one of eager anticipation.

In response, she leaned in close, and whispered a few things into his ear. His eyes started to glow even brighter, if that was possible, and a grin that one normally associated with a young child getting exactly what he wanted at yuletide came over his visage.

"You could really do all of that?" he said incredulously.

"Mmm-hmmm." she responded, nodding her head.

"Alright," he said, smiling, "whenever you get back from wherever you're going, you'll find it in your workshop."

"Thanks." She said, before tearing off in the direction of the base entrance.

* * *

Once again, she weaved her way through the trees of Haven Forest, expertly swerving back and forth between the lords of the old woods. It had been a simple matter to avoid the K.G. patrols, most of whom were too scared to really do their jobs, lest they happen to run into something in a back alley that was large and in possession of a pair of bat-like wings.

She looked about as she sped through the forest. Spring was winning the war it waged upon winter, and most of the snow that had once covered the woodland was now gone, with the first sprigs of the grass coming back, while some of the trees were already beginning to bud once more. It reminded her, in a strange way, of the dark elf that she was currently heading after. Once, he had been all but dead on the inside. But now, slowly but surely, that old spark of life that he'd possessed back in Sandover was returning.

And she was determined that she'd be there to help him when he needed her.

Before long, she'd made her way to where that clearing was. Not surprisingly, there was a speeder bike parked by some trees. Upon seeing it, she hopped off of her board and placed it next to the zoomer, before carefully making her way through the trees. Once she came into sight of the clearing where she and Jak had hade their little 'argument' she peeked her head out from around a tree, and froze.

In a strange and bizarre bit of a celestial coincidence, the moon chose that exact moment to reveal itself from behind the clouds, its pale light spilling out over the grove.

Jak was there, spinning around in mid maneuver as he went through a kata. Keira couldn't help but let out an audible gasp. Watching as he leapt and whirled through the air, pulling off maneuvers that were both flashy, and at the same time, deadly. This 'Juyo' style did indeed live up to its name, though there was one thing about it that puzzled her, but she passed it off as simply being one of the abilities that had lain dormant within Kitetsu.

The Ascended Channeler was still the forefront of her thoughts, though, as she watched him move about. Strange as it was, the way in which he moved was almost like a dance, graceful, coordinated, beautiful in a way. She could also see why Mar had never taught this style to anyone else. She knew, watching this, that it must have required coordination beyond that which most elves were capable of, to weave around like that, cutting through the air, and not hack off a limb.

It was then, that she got another surprise, as she watched Jak leap straight up into the air, spinning around all the while. While in that leap, an orb of darkness enveloped him, and with a pain filled growl, Kage manifested himself.

The oni kept whirling around until he hit the ground, whereupon it promptly resumed its sparring. She noted that even now, Kitetsu's runes still bore the violet glow that they had before, though the blade itself was still as dark as moonless night.

The Dark Eco demon lunged forward, leaving that strange afterimage trail behind himself as he thrust, slashed and chopped in a relentless pattern of attacks. In a way, it was even more…exciting…to see this creature perform the Juyo maneuvers, as with three extra appendages, it complicated matters. Indeed, there were several times where she had to resist the urge to cry out, as it looked like Kage was going to slice off a wing or his tail. But every time, he would always avoid such a scenario by a split second change of direction, an alteration of the swing by a faction of a degree.

For how long she watched the demon, she did not know. In a sense, it seemed as though hours had passed, and yet, in another, merely seconds. Then came the final move in this bizarre ballet, as Kage made one final move, suddenly swinging and creating an 'X' shaped blast of Dark Eco that shot out from in front of him, rushing from one end of the glade to the other before it finally dissipated.

For several seconds, everything seemed a hush, an almost unnatural stillness in the world. Kage, his back to Keira, picked up his head slightly, and seemed to stare off into infinity. What the aqua haired elf didn't realize, though, was that demon was sniffing the air…and that she was standing upwind of him. Abruptly, he squatted down for a moment, before launching himself into the air, his wings propelling him out of sight.

Keira, not quite knowing what to make of the demon's actions, slowly walked out into the clearing, wondering what could have caused such a reaction from him. One thought did come to mind: Metal Heads. The very instant that that thought entered into her mind, her morph-gun, set to its battle rifle mode, snapped up, and she began scanning the area.

No sooner did that happen, than she heard a snap off to her right, and she whirled around, her eyes gazing back and forth among the shadows of the bushes and the trees, seeking to find the source of the noise. Slowly, she stepped towards what she had heard, putting one foot in front of the other, every muscle tensed and ready to leap aside should it indeed prove to be a Hora-quan nestled in there somewhere.

What she never noticed, in the minute that passed, was the blurry distortion that was sneaking up behind her. It moved stealthily, nary a sound or misstep betraying its position.

However, she did realize that she wasn't as alone as she thought the instant that an impossibly strong arm pinned her own limbs and her gun to her waist, while another covered her eyes, giving her a distorted view of the world. She struggled for a moment, before she felt someone's warm breath on her right ear.

"Guess who?" came a voice that brought a strange combination of relief, irritation, and confusion.

However, she decided she settle for figuring out how the heck the dark elf was cloaking himself once she'd paid him back for this little trick.

She shifted her weight, and suddenly threw herself forward, catching Jak off guard, as the Ascended Channeler suddenly found himself airborne. However, he recovered in mid-flight, quickly pivoting around and coming down in a foot first skid, his trench coat sending distortions throughout the air around him as he regained his balance.

He stood up slowly, and Keira raised an eyebrow in curiosity, not quite sure what to make of the new ability that her boyfriend was showing off. She couldn't see it, but a cocky smirk formed on the face of the dark elf, and he paced around slowly, allowing for the camouflage to fade, his body shifting back into view.

"I'm not entirely sure how it works myself." he responded with a shrug, answering the question she had not yet voiced.

"You've been distant lately." She told him, a note of undeniable concern making its way into her voice.

Upon hearing that, Jak stiffened uncomfortably, and shuffled his feet in a childishly amusing manner. He knew what she had said was true, and considering how he'd been before that little trial in the Tomb of Mar, she had every reason to be worried that he might slip back into his old ways. Still, Jak had no intention of starting back along that road, and inwardly shuddered just thinking about it, something he was certain to tell her.

A look of relief swept over her upon hearing that, still, she couldn't blame him, after all that he'd been through, seeing what they'd done…it was the last thing that he needed.

Jak's mindset was much the same, as he pondered back to what he'd seen in Dead Town, something that had ripped at his heart and soul.

* * *

There was a panicky screeching, and the Grunts and Drones made an attempt to run for it as their commander fell, its twin blasters firing harmlessly into the ground in its death throes. It would be a vain attempt to flee, as Keira's morph gun fired relentlessly into their midst, and a dark bomb followed it, ensuring that any survivors of the aqua haired elf's assault were not to be considered lucky in any way.

As the attack cleared, revealing the partially disintegrated corpses of the Hora-quan, Jak stepped forward, his blade held back in the Ataru fashion, as he did not yet feel comfortable unleashing the Juyo style upon opponents more dangerous than his own shadow.

"I think that's the last of them." the Ascended Channeler called back over his shoulder, motioning for the others to join him. "Now, what was so important about this place?"

In front of them stood a ruined, dome like building, most of it had collapsed, but the central chamber still intact, if open to the elements. The Metal Heads had been defending this place heavily, as if they were determined to stop whatever the elves could have thrown at them. Needless to say, they hadn't exactly counted on someone of Jak's abilities showing up. Keira had also added several notches to her belt, so to speak, putting her gun skills to use in a way that made her old man both proud and sad at the same time.

"There is something within here." Samos replied, making his way forward, "an item of power that my younger self needs in order to become…" he paused for a moment, scratching his chin, "more sagely."

"Wait a minute." Daxter said, waving his hands back and forth in the air. "So what you're telling us is that we're the reason that you're the all mighty Green Sage?" he glared at the old elf, crossing his arms over his tiny chest. "That we're the ones who made you what you are today?"

"Yes." Samos muttered, rolling his eyes.

"And you never thanked us?" the Ottsel practically screeched, exasperation saturating his voice.

"Daxter," Samos replied, acting as if this was going to be the hardest thing he had ever had to say in his life, "thank you."

However, before the diminutive former elf could break into celebration, Keira spoke up, something in her tone that put both the furry rodent and his slit eyed compatriot on edge.

"There's also a shrine in here." she said.

"A shrine?" Jak inquired, somewhat puzzled as to what she meant.

"A memorial." she responded, lowering her head to the ground, something that Samos did as well, and Jak noticed that he fidgeted slightly.

"A memorial to who?" he asked, pressing further.

Her response simply cast more confusion about.

"To those who lived here first."

Without another word, the aqua haired elf turned and walked inside, her adoptive father swiftly following her. Jak made a gesture for Daxter to tag along with his head, and the two of them entered as well.

What they saw was nothing particularly spectacular, just a small, nondescript shrine that had come into disrepair for rather obvious reasons. At the top of it, clasped within four metal 'claws,' was a glowing green object, that looked almost like a seed of some sort. Samos strode towards it purposefully, and held out his hand, palm facing the strange artifact.

As if reacting to the presence of the Sage, the claws opened, and he quickly grabbed the object. However, Jak's attention was more focused on Keira, as she was kneeling down in front of the monument, her hands clasped in front of her, and her eyes closed as if in prayer. Moving closer, he was able to see writing upon the front of the shrine, and as he realized what it meant, he felt his strength desert him. Kitetsu fell from his hand, hitting the floor with a loud clatter. This attracted Daxter's attention as well, and ever curious, the Ottsel walked over. He too, read the inscription, and for once, he became somber, and his ears suddenly drooped as his eyes began to glisten.

Jak looked back up, staring into the wording, damning evidence, set in stone and metal, of what had happened here.

_Here we pay tribute to those who died, they who were slaughtered by the ruthless Hora-quan. The Gods have mercy upon the souls of them, the people of Sandover Village._

His mind froze, as those words echoed through his head, until it happened. A sob choked its way out of his throat, and he looked over to Keira, who had apparently finished her prayer.

"Now you know the truth, Jak." she said, her voice bitter. "That Rift Gate didn't take us to another place, it took us to another time. We're in the future of our world."

"What happened?" Daxter asked, a strange note of despair, so out of character for him, in his voice.

"When we opened the Gate, we unleashed Hell upon Sandover…" Samos replied, as downcast as the others. "The Metal Heads swarmed it, and slaughtered anyone who couldn't get away fast enough."

"Were…" Jak began, a tear making its way down his face, "were there any survivors?"

"A few." Keira said, her eyes having a faraway look to them. "The Metal Heads chased them through the hills for a few days, before as luck would have it, Mar stumbled across them." She paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts before continuing. "He and his troops protected them, driving the Metal Heads back. Later, they came back to the village ruins, and they built Haven here, and this memorial to those who died."

Daxter sniffled, a whimper coming from the depths of his throat, and Samos, in an unlikely gesture, placed his hand gently upon the Ottsel's shoulder. Keira did the same for the dark elf, the two of them taking comfort amongst each other. Kage, however, was beside himself with rage.

'_**Bastards!' **_he roared, his image appearing within Jak's mind, fists clenched, face contorted with fury, and his wings spread wide. '_**It was a damn fishing village! They were no threat to them at all!'**_

The oni's anger actually grew to the point in which it manifested itself slightly, in a crackling of dark lightning around the Ascended Channeler. Still, Kage retained enough rational thought to stop himself from going berserk, and instead settled for making certain that he would take a little more pleasure from any Hora-quan that he happened to slay.

It was much the same with Jak. Before, the Metal Heads had been an enemy, but his battles with them had always felt…detached, in a way. Now, clichéd as it may have been, things were personal.

* * *

He was suddenly aware of a pressure on his hand, and he looked back over his shoulder, saw Keira holding it, her eyes shining in the moonlight. She knew what it was that he was thinking about, the same guilt that had plagued her when she'd first found out the truth. Still, with any bit of luck, that might still be changeable.

"I just can't help it." He spoke, his voice quiet. "We did that…we destroyed our home…everyone who died…died because of our actions."

'_**I know you feel pain for what happened.' **_Kage said, his head bowed and his tone somber. _**'But we must do more than merely weep for the dead.' **_the demon suddenly balled one of its taloned hands into a fist, a snarl echoing within the dark elf's mind. _**'It is our duty to make those abominations pay for the slaughter, to avenge those that fell!'**_

'_I have every intention of doing that, Kage.' _Jak responded mentally, assuring his apparently honor bound inner demon that Sandover's destruction would be more than repaid.

He refocused his attention upon Keira, smiling slightly to reassure her. Once again, the compulsion came over them, and with no Daxter around to somehow distract them, they kissed, their eyes closed to the world around them, and they allowed themselves to forget, if only for a moment, what their universe had become.

They parted after a time, and stared at each other, the aqua haired elf becoming lost in his alien eyes. It was much the same in his case, as her emerald orbs caused a stirring within his soul that had been gone for far too long. Lovingly, he reached out, and tucked some of her hair behind her ear, while she caressed his hand with her own.

And so, their hands intertwined with one another, they left the glade, walking back to where Jak had parked his speeder bike. Upon reaching it, he mounted up, motioning for her to do the same. She paused just long enough to grab her hover board before she did so, wrapping her arms around her waist and leaning in close to him, smiling at him as he looked back over his shoulder.

The Ascended Channeler kick-started the zoomer, and in the flash of an eye, they were off, Jak revealing just how good of a pilot he was.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the Haven Palace compound, Commander Errol was getting use to his new body part. After the loss of his natural arm at the hands of Jak, Baron Praxis had arranged for a cybernetic one to be made for its replacement. Errol, however, had taken the order a step further, opting to have the neurosurgeons incorporate something from the battle droid program into the bionic limb. It had been a risky procedure, with a hundred different things that could have gone wrong. It was only natural, considering that the 'request' that the commander had asked for required them to drill into his brain, and integrate a highly complex amount of circuitry to make the thing work as he'd wanted.

Fortunately, everything went relatively smoothly, and Errol stared down, admiring the gleaming, gunmetal gray arm. Not only did the limb afford him incredible strength, but as he was soon to once again demonstrate, had a nasty little surprise set within it.

He was at one of the gun courses located within the barracks, and was well aware that his superior was monitoring his progress, which was rapid, considering just how different his new choice of weaponry was.

A whirring sound caught his attention, and he whirled around, observing three Metal Head targets come sliding out at him. He dove to one side, hitting shoulder first and rolling about, his brain sending a message to the microchip that was inside of it. Instantly, a crosshair-like targeting reticule appeared within his vision. At the same time, there was whining sound, and a very mean looking blaster popped out of his left forearm.

Still in the middle of his roll, Errol fired off a burst, reducing the first target to smoldering splinters. As he came up, he again sent the mental command to the weapon in his arm once again, and another staccato filled the air, as a quartet of Eco bolts tore through target number two. The last of the trio was soon to be dealt with as well, but through a different manner. There was a humming noise, and a blast, not too dissimilar to the charge shot that Jak's magnum had possessed, but far larger, flew from the arm cannon.

However, anyone who observed what happened to the training dummy would be able to tell you that while it may have looked the same, the charge shot from Errol's new weapon was without a doubt, the stronger of the two. After all, the magnum's charge shot, while potent, had never been able to leave a two foot wide crater where an adversary had been.

The leader of the Krimzon Guard grinned evilly at the thought of what he could do with this new technology. He would revel in the look on the dark elf's face when he blew him to pieces.

A clapping sound awoke him from his thoughts of revenge, and he looked up to see Baron Praxis and a few of his elite guards staring down at him.

"Most impressive, Errol." His superior said, admiring the handiwork that his second in command had displayed in the past ten minutes. "Just don't put too much faith in that bit of hardware."

The commander had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Ever since Jak had busted out of the Fortress for the second time, and had managed to utterly decimate a good number of their men, the Baron had been increasingly cautious, almost to the point in which Errol was beginning to believe that his superior was starting to become afraid of the dark elf.

He didn't know how right the scarred elf was, and how stupid he was being for not carrying a good deal of fearful respect. Praxis, unlike his right hand elf, had faced off against Jak, and that had been before this new complication had been thrown into the equation. After something like that, one could hardly blame him if he were to be reluctant to re-engage the Channeler in combat.

At the moment, though, Jak was among the least of Praxis' worries. He had the Precursor stone within his grasp now, and with its power at his disposal, destroying the Metal Heads would be a synch. Oh yes, the tyrant would enjoy this triumph over their Leader, above all others he had achieved.

That abomination would pay the price for underestimating what elves were capable of, and countless thousands who'd died because of him would be avenged.

* * *

The resistance garage had been virtually deserted when they'd returned, not surprising given the hour in which that was, and after parking the bike, they'd made their way back to the barracks area, both giving off an aura of caring that could practically be felt.

All too soon it seemed, they reached a part where they would have to separate, and go their different ways. Reluctantly, they did so, sharing one last tender moment before the next day came.

However, before Jak had taken a dozen steps, he heard her call softly after him.

"Yeah?" he inquired, turning around to face her.

"You know, there's a racing tournament coming up in a few weeks, right." She said, getting an affirmative nod from the dark elf. "Well," she began, scratching the back of her head, "I still need a driver."

She let the sentence hang for a moment or two, until Jak smiled and nodded, before heading his own way. Keira did the same, after all, come tomorrow, she had a lot to do. What with finishing up on Torn's new prosthetic, beginning the modifications to the Katarn armor that Jynx had so graciously given to her, and a little something that she had decided to work on for the one that she loved.

And so, upon reaching her quarters, nestled right next to her temporary workshop, she promptly stripped out of her armor, laid down, and went to sleep.

* * *

The door to his wing of the barracks opened with a squeak, but fortunately did not awaken any of the other resistance members who happened to be inside at the moment. Silently, the Ascended Channeler praised whatever deity might have been listening with the abrupt turnabout in his life. He'd learned to control his hatred, he had his powers back, and on top of that, he and Keira had patched things up.

Of course, if one were to take a look at his life thus far, one would probably deem it about darn time that he'd finally managed to catch a break.

Still, it was with a smile, that Jak crawled into his bunk, noting that Daxter was currently AWOL, and doing the Precursors only knew what, though it probably somehow involved Tess. Snorting softly at the thought, he kicked off his boots, and laid back in the bunk, closing his eyes and basking in the darkness.

However, before he drifted off into la-la land, a familiar presence came to the forefront of his mind. The demon bowed, respectful as always, which unnerved the dark elf a bit, as he didn't like the fact that Kage seemed to think himself subservient to him.

'_You really don't have to keep doing that.' _Jak told him, and the creature stood hastily.

'_**Forgive me, but I had a question I needed to ask you.'**_ he rumbled, his eyes aglow with curiosity over something.

'_What?' _the dark elf responded.

'_**This feeling that I get when she is near, the one that affects you as well…' **_Kage said, scratching his head in a most amusing fashion, _**'is this what you elves call love?'**_

'_Yes, it is.' _Jak told him, another smile tugging at his lips as he did so.

The Dark Eco demon fell silent upon this, musing as to what this could mean. Jak bid him goodnight, and let sleep take him.

Kage, however, remained 'awake' for lack of a better term, still trying to figure out what to make of these strange emotions that churned within him. At last, he gave up; coming to the conclusion that love was not something that could be figured out by reason or logic.

And so, the oni decided that he would do as he always had: he would defend his host, and his host's soul mate, with every ounce of power that he had. The two of them had been through enough, and though Hell itself should throw itself against him, he would not let them suffer anymore.

On his honor, he swore that.

* * *

&

* * *

Okay, once again, I am sorry if the romance stank to high heaven here, and any advice on that subject is more than welcome. Also, I still need names/ideas for dark powers, and some light ones wouldn't be that bad either.

So if you have anything of that nature, as well as contstructive critisims or you have noticed something that makes no sense, please let me know, I beg of you.

Thank you for your time, and I hope that you have a great day.


	26. A Race, a Revolt, and an Ottsel in Distr

Emerges humming to the tune of Imperial March)

Hello again folks, and please pardon the tune butchering, I've been playing Star Wars: Battlefront lately...Dark Troopers rule!

(Glances around sheepishly)

At any rate, to those of you kind enough to review my amateur work.

**MariaShadow- **I'm glad you liked my feeble attempts at a romance between Jak and Keira, and if you liked Jynx's reaction, well, just wait until he shows he new gear off in this chapter. (cackles insanely)

**Xeno-Freak- **Thanks for the advice on the powers it was very handy. As far as the romance ins concerned, it will still be mostly a subplot, as this is predominantly an action type story. Also, about the power distribution between Jak and Kage, they are somewhat different, though both tend to rely equally upon their Channeling abilities and their blade skills. There are differences, however. Kage is the more powerful of the two, but there are things that he cannot do, such as turn himself invisible, that Jak can, so each of them would have the advantage in different situations. Also, as to your remark about the kids, they'd probably just be normal Channelers, as the whole ascended deal is a strictly random thing. Thanks again, and I hope that you like this chapter too, as Jynx and Torn will both unleash their new gear upon several unfortunate K.G.

**ChibiSess- **That's kind what I meant about the romance being more fluff than anything else, I can't write it to where its decent in a non sappy kind of way, any advice on that? Also, glad you liked the little name change, I figured that if D.J. was going to be something of a split personality on this story, that it would be more appropriate for him to have a more individualized name, if you know what I mean. Also, did you get that e-mail that I sent to you a few days ago? I'm sorry if I irritated or annoyed you in any way. (cringes in expectation of pain)

**Every Heart Bleeds- **Hmm, didn't realize that I was spelling it wrong...and now I'm stuck in a dilemma, should I continue to spell it this way for the sake of uniformity, or should I change it? What would you do? Also, The attachment part of my hotmail been acting up lately, but I can give you the website where I found the picture originally. Head to ( barhaven. casualvillain. com /Art/ VincentArt/ erikachaos. jpg) and see if that gets it for you. If not, let me know and I'll try my best to send it to you via e-mail (gives hotmail account a death glare).

**Philoworm- **(bows over and over again) Thank you, thank you, thank you for those ideas. The dark bolt sounds like a good way to try and stun a target or otherwise deal with something that needs to be taken alive. The shadow flare sounds like a good name for the haidoken style attack that Kage has, and the shield will be used as well. Already have an overload style attack, though you won't see it until the showdown with Kor. Please let me know if you think of any more, and thank you once again.

**animedragongirl- **My sympathies to you on the flight...I don't know if I'd be able to stay sane being on a plane that long. I'm also sorry about the typos and about the romance being sappy, would you happen to have any advice on how to make it better? Also, thank you for the idea on dragons, I was trying to think up an idea for some armor for our mysterious Light Eco user to have, and I think a dragon scale style might do nicely. Finally, you mentioned some drawings, where might I be able to go to view these?

**Lunatic Pandora1- **Well, if you liked dual wielding...wait, must stay quiet about that...at any rate, you heard right about Ninja Gaiden, Game Informer awarded it the most difficult goon type enemies in history award due to the Spider Ninjas that attack you throughout the game. They always work in squads of three to five, and I might add, are not affected by the Law of Inverse Ninja, which is to say nothing of Doku, the demonic samurai who actually carries Kitetsu. Also, I'll keep my mouth shut about Errol, but let's say I'll be taking a slightly different route than the game did. And I want to thank you for to idea of the Dark Tyrael. There will be a villain in the sequel who I hadn't really gotten a good idea for a 'look' yet, and I think that will be just about perfect for him.

**SRHumphrey727- **Hey, got your e-mail, and I must admit, Little Miss. Anonymous is doing pretty good, enough so someone like me, a diehard JakxKeira fan, can overlook that one little detail and focus on the rest of the story. Glad you liked the last chapter and I hope that you enjoy this one just as much.

**Air of Mystery- **Thanks for the vote of confidence, and yes, Kage is sorta Japanese, and the whole well mannered deal is honestly how I feel he would be, plus its a nice little 'Ha' to everyone who portrays him as a mindless killing machine. As for Jak's eyes, they're still blue, just altered, and they only turn red when Kage is manifesting himself. Hope that clears things up a bit, and I hope you enjoy this installment of Risen Demon.

**dude- **Sorry man but your e-mail address didn't show up, but if you're still trying to find the picture then head to http/ barhaven. casualvillain. com /Art/ VincentArt/ erikachaos. jpg and it should pop up, if not, give me an e-mail and I'll try to attach it to the reply.

To those who read but did not review, I hope that my attempt at a romantic interlude did not physiologically scare anyone of you for life.

To those lawyers who are so pathetic as to have to cruise around here looking ofr a frivolous lawsuit, for the last bloody time, I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING!

That done, here is chapter twenty six.

* * *

&

* * *

A Race, a Revolt, and an Ottsel in Distress

This was it, the finale of all of his trials this day, and as he slipped his helmet back on, he couldn't help but think back to all the things that had happened before now.

Six weeks had passed since the incident at the Fortress, and that time had been a busy one for the Underground. They hadn't been raiding or sabotaging, or anything of that nature, as the elder Samos had advised patience, and the others had reluctantly listened to him.

Instead, it had been a time of preparation and scouting. Jak had spent his free time, the little that he had, practicing, as getting the hang of the Juyo style had been something of a challenge, being so universally different from what he was used to. But, despite everything, he was at long last beginning to feel more comfortable using it. Torn and Jynx had spent their time with the Shadow, planning their next move, which was going to be a big one. As for Keira, she'd had her hands full trying to make all the modifications to Jynx's armor, and Torn's once she'd managed to get him to cough his up.

In fact, she'd gotten so determined to get these new and improved Katarn armors out and up to snuff in record time that she was exhausting herself.

Which had Jak concerned over her, for once.

It was little different on this day, where he had walked in from an extended scouting trip to find her making some adjustments to the racing zoomer that he'd been practicing on out in the forest. His superior reflexes and endurance had made the woodlands an ideal, if insanely challenging practice track, the theory being that if he was able to maintain a constant high rate of speed in a densely wooded area, then maneuvering on an open track would be a cakewalk.

She smiled energetically up at him as he purposefully made his footsteps louder than normal, so as not to startle her. However, he frowned when he saw the bags under her eyes, and eyed a stained coffee mug, very much empty, on the tool chest next to where she had been working.

"How many of those have you had today?" the dark elf inquired, gesturing to the mug.

"Three or four." She responded, before a yawn suddenly came from her, despite her best efforts to silence it.

Jak folded his arms and stared at her, a frown coming over his face as he did so. Faced with this sort of scrutiny, Keira reluctantly divulged the rest of the sentence.

"Pots." she muttered, lowering her eyes to the floor.

The dark elf's own widened upon that, and he stood stock still for a moment, the cogs of his mind trying to process what he'd just been told.

"When was the last time you got any sleep?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Her response was a nonchalant shrug, before she turned back to her work. However, before she could so much as pick up her hydro-spanner, she found herself picked up by the dark elf, and he began to carry her, kicking and struggling, to her room.

"Jak, put me down now!" she exclaimed, punching him in the chest a few times. "I've got stuff I need to do!"

"Not until you get some rest." He told her, getting struck a few more times as she attempted to squirm out of the position that she was in.

If the Ascended Channeler was bothered by this in any way, form, or fashion, he did not let it show, putting up with Keira's struggles as he gently eased her room door open, and walked inside. A few seconds later, the mechanic felt the relative softness of a sheet covered bunk as the dark elf deposited her on it. She promptly tried to rise, but found that Jak's hand's now gripping her firmly by the shoulders, holding her in place.

She again tried to push him off for a few more seconds, before she suddenly ceased. Afraid that he might have somehow hurt her, Jak was instantly back up on his feet, his eyes wide with panic. However, that panic was short lived, as he saw the easy rising and falling of her chest, and realized that her artificially induced energy had apparently deserted her, and that she was already asleep.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he bent down, and laid a gentle kiss upon her forehead, before heading back out to her workshop, and gently closing the door behind him.

'**_She is a puzzling creature.' _**Kage mused abruptly.

'_That she is, my friend, that she is.' _Jak replied, smiling faintly.

* * *

It was a good sixteen hours before the aqua haired elf emerged once again, awakening him from a meditation. She looked refreshed, if ready to murder him. However, she took one look at the clock up on the wall, and promptly forgot her desires to inflict bodily harm upon Jak, instead rushing over to a comm. unit and dialing up Jynx's frequency, telling him that something was ready.

A few minutes later, there was the hissing sound associated with a hydraulic door opening, and both of them looked over, and found Torn, Jynx, and Ashelin walking in, accompanied by both Samoses, and Tess, who had Daxter held in her arms.

"Hey, Keira," Jynx said, an eager gleam in his eyes, "you said that you'd finished with the modifications."

She nodded enthusiastically, and motioned for Delta Sixty Seven to accompany her to another room, saying that they would be right back.

"Any idea what Jynx was talking about?" Jak asked, staring around at the others.

"Not really sure." Torn replied, shrugging his shoulders. "He just said that there was something really important that she had to show us."

"I see." the dark elf said, before falling silent.

About seven minutes later, Keira emerged, a grin practically splitting her face in half. As the others waited in silence, she performed an elegant bow, and looked back up to them.

"Ladies and gentlemen," she proclaimed, excitement teaming in her voice, "it is my extreme pleasure to present to you the latest in Haven City's modern military fashion."

On cue, Jynx stepped out from behind the curtain, clad in his armor. Torn, observant as always, noticed that the armor appeared much the same as it had before, except that the forearms were bulkier now than they had been, and when Jynx walked forward and turned around, that there was similar expansion upon the back region as well.

"Katarn Mark, Two, battle armor." The mechanic said, gesturing to Jynx, who promptly assumed a combat stance, both of his submachine guns drawn in the blink of an eye.

Jak stared around at the others. Ashelin seemed a little confused as to where this was going, as did the Shadow. Samos, on the other hand, had that mysterious smile upon his face, and his eyes shined in pride for his adoptive daughter. Tess seemed in awe, as this was the first time she'd really been able to examine one of these legendary soldiers in full gear, as things had been a little too frantic back at the Fortress. Daxter, well, he simply seemed bored.

Keira going into an explanation of the armor's 'modifications' ripped the dark elf back to earth, and he gave her his undivided attention.

"All the protection that you've come to expect from your old gear, with the added benefit of three things." She said, and Jynx put his guns away to demonstrate for her. "The first is a grappling hook, integrated into the right gauntlet." She said, and Jynx made a fist, causing the barbed head to appear out of the slot. "The hook is attached to a four hundred foot, quarter ton grapple line that is powered by a compressed CO2 canister that is capable of up to ten shots before needing to be replaced."

Torn nodded approvingly of this new addition, but Keira was only just beginning.

"In the left gauntlet," she said, and Jynx made a fist with his left hand, causing a green crystal to shoot out, the distortions forming around it, "is a close combat, eight inch vibro-blade, capable of tearing through titanium-A like its nothing." She said glancing around, a crooked smile coming onto her visage, stepping back to a light switch.

"And last, but certainly not least…" the mechanic stated dramatically, before flipping the switch, and plunging the room into darkness, which lasted for about six seconds before she flipped the switch back on.

Jynx was nowhere to be seen, and everyone looked about, trying to see what had become of the soldier.

The answer was found when Tess suddenly felt Daxter be yanked out of her arms, and whirled around to find him being held up in the air by his tail, struggling uselessly to escape the grip of a blur.

"…Active camouflage." Keira said, her voice triumphant as Jynx phased back into view.

"Virtual invisibility," the soldier mused, bringing Daxter in close to his visor, which still possessed its otherworldly glow, "a million uses, and counting."

"Put me down, dang it!" Daxter fumed, his tiny fists hitting Jynx's forearm, but the Ottsel succeeded in doing very little other than amusing the soldier.

"Put him down, buddy." Torn said, "we got a reputation to maintain, and the public probably won't like it if word leaks out that we're abusing dumb animals."

"Yeah, so…" Daxter began, before his brain registered exactly what had been said, "Hey!" he snarled in his high pitched voice, twisting about as best he could to see the tattooed commander.

In the next moment, laughter, ranging from stifled giggles, to full throated bellows, erupted from everyone else in the room. Daxter slapped his hand to his forehead and groaned, his skin turning a shade of red that was visible even underneath his fur. Eventually, he managed to wriggle free from the Delta's grip, and landed on the floor, dusting himself off while grumbling threats underneath his breath.

Jynx was the first to regain some measure of control, and he looked down at his right shoulder, upon which was a strange symbol.

"Keira, I love the mods you gave my suit," he began once the others had stopped as well, "but what I can't understand is just what in the nine hells this is supposed to be." He said, gesturing to the mark, holding out his shoulder to where everyone else could see it.

The others peered at it, puzzled and unsure of what to make of it. Everyone, of course, except for one elf. Samos used all of his willpower to hold back another laugh, he would have never expected her to have remembered those little childhood tales after all of these years, and yet she had.

The symbol that Keira had taken the liberty of emblazing upon Jynx's armor was a strange suit of armor, a large, two handed sword gripped with its hands. The figure was running forward, and the blade was raised up to strike down a foe. What made it truly bizarre though was the cloak, which seemed to be made of blue flames, and the eye slit, which was similarly lit.

"That's a revenant." the aqua haired elf responded.

"A what?" Jynx inquired, the bafflement in his voice giving the others a good guess at what his face must have looked like.

"Old legends tell of them." the mechanic said, switching her voice to an almost identical, if more feminine, version of her father's. "They say that when great heroes fell in battle, before they were able to complete whatever divine quest they were on, that the gods would bind their souls to their armor, charging them to complete in undeath what they could not in life." She paused for a moment or two, letting what she had said sink in, letting them realize where she was going with this. "Rising from the ashes of defeat, a revenant would continue on, until it had completed what it was commanded to do."

There was silence for some time, as glances were exchanged. At last, someone decided to voice their opinion.

"Revenants…" Jynx said, his fingers scratching at the bottom part of his helmet. "Has a nice ring to it…whadda ya think, Torn?"

"I think," his squad mate began, looking over to him with a grim smile, "that its time that the two of us did our own little rising from the ashes."

* * *

There had also been something for Jak, much to the dark elf's surprise, and Keira had been swift in yanking him in that room as well, and reactions to it had been mixed, to say the least.

Nonetheless, he'd liked it, though he was a little concerned that she'd had to go to the black market to get the materials for it. Still, he was once again all but blown away at the genius she'd proven herself to be.

* * *

"I still can't believe you're wearing that thing!" Daxter exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air, as he jogged to keep up with Jak, as he wasn't quite comfortable sitting on his shoulder just yet. "I mean, you look like a total dork!"

"One Ottsel's opinion." Jak retorted. "Yeah, I was a little nervous at first, but I guess the shoulder pads won me over." He said, tracing a finger along the left pauldron of his new coat.

It was a bizarre looking bit of protective gear, consisting of two primary parts. The first was a vest like bit of armor, made of a material called 'electro-mesh' that, while not quite as protective against blasters as normal armor, was still highly flexible and no more restrictive than a normal piece of clothing was. The second, was what had caused Daxter's reaction. It was, quite literally, an armored trench coat. It was almost identical to a normal one, except that it was once again made from electro-mesh, and of course, the shoulders.

What made these stand out, was the ferrosteel pauldrons and upper arm plates that Keira had somehow managed to stitch on. It definitely made him stand out in a crowd, but as she'd pointed out, a triumphant smile upon her face, all of Haven already knew what he looked like, and it wasn't as if the K.G. was exactly eager to go toe to toe with him either.

He also had gauntlets made of the same combination of materials, the ferrosteel stopping at his wrist, while a small plate on the top part of his hand ended at his knuckles, allowing for him to retain the dexterity that he needed to be able to use Kitetsu skillfully. A pair of plate armored boots completed the outfit, allowing for both foot protection, and maximized headache inducing capabilities.

True, it was out of the ordinary, but then, Jak had never really been one to stay 'in' with fashion.

And so, clad in that equipment, he'd walked into the Hip Hog Heaven, where Krew had wanted to discuss some things with him. What exactly he hadn't said, and something about that made him anxious in a way. It wasn't fear, just that feeling that he sometimes got that something was about to happen, something big.

The door hissed open, and the dark elf walked inside, drawing more than a few stares due to his wardrobe, which when combine with his way of carrying himself, apparently had quite an effect on his intimidation factor. Walking forward to the bar, he got his usual from Sig, and sat down, waiting for Krew.

He didn't have to wait long, as the putrid mound of flesh came around form the back soon enough, his hover craft straining under his bulk.

'**_It still baffles me as to how such a small thing can support his weight.' _**Kage rumbled inside of the Ascended Channeler's mind, causing his counterpart to struggle to hold in a snort.

"Ahhh, Jak, timely as always." Krew replied, oblivious to the oni's remark as his sinister grin appeared on his bloated face and his many chins practically jiggled in excitement.

"What's this about?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow from behind his glasses.

"You know that the big race is two days from now, and from the many accounts of your driving skills, I have little doubt that you're going to go all the way." the crime lord informed him, rubbing his pudgy hands together. "This means that it's likely going to come to a showdown between you and Errol."

"Where are you going with this?" Jak asked, having a sinking feeling that he knew what Krew was about to ask of him.

"My boy, whether you realize it or not, most of the people are fed up with Praxis, and you've become something of a symbol to them." the gangster replied. "And one thing you can be sure about, is that these townies will bet everything on a little bit of hope. What better time to make a load of cash, ey?"

"You're asking for me to throw the race to Errol?" Jak said, disbelief in his voice as he stared at Krew.

"Yes, Jak, just let him win." Krew confirmed, that eager gleam appearing in his eye once more. "What do you say, ey?"

"I say," the dark elf responded with a chilled tone as he turned his back to the gangster, "that you're going to lose a lot of money. Because I plan to race against Errol, and I plan to win."

One could have heard a pin drop in the Hip Hog as the Channeler finished. Sig paused in the middle of wiping out a mug, while Daxter's large eyes darted back and forth between his friend and the blimp of a man that hovered scant feet from him. Even the patrons had gone silent, their own conversations forgotten in the wake of this confrontation. For several seconds, this unusual phenomenon continued, until Krew once more broke the silence.

"If that's your decision, Jak, then I suggest that you don't get too comfy," the crime boss growled, anger in every syllable, "no one is irreplaceable."

"I seriously doubt that you or anyone on your payroll could take care of me, Krew." Jak replied, taking another sip of his water.

"There are other ways of brining you down, Jak," the gangster hissed, backing away from him, "there are others who could be gunned down. For example, that rodent would make a fine trophy or…"

That was a as far the obese man got before the dark elf whirled around, his coat flaring out behind him in a strangely dramatic way. Before Krew's mind could even begin to process what was going on, Jak threw out his hand, and purple lighting arced its way from his fingertips, crackling through the air and striking the repulsor lifts of his hover craft. They exploded after less than a second of this abuse, and the overweight gangster found himself once more in gravity's hold.

He crashed to the ground, and before he could even so much as cry out, felt something cold, and very, very sharp pressed against his thick throat. He looked down to find a blade, and followed it, and the arm attached to it out of find Jak standing next to him, his glasses pulled down so that Krew could see the reptilian slits that his eyes had become.

"Threaten any one of my friends again, Krew, and I swear on a stack of holy tomes, I'll kill you without a second thought, you got me?" he spat, his voice full of venom.

Krew remained silent, but Jak was confident that he had managed to get the point across. He motioned for Daxter to follow him, and they left the bar.

Sig chuckled inwardly, having little love for his employer. There was just something about that elf, the way he carried and handled himself, the way that he didn't like being pushed around, and his steadfast loyalty to his friends, that reminded him quite a bit of a close friend of his.

And it left him to wonder.

* * *

Since that time, neither Krew nor Sig had contacted him, and Jak was pretty certain the he'd effectively turned in his notice in regards to the gangster's employment. And frankly it didn't bother him that much, as he'd never liked the overweight blob of grease in the first place, and now that he had his powers back, there was nothing he could really gain from their partnership anyway.

As for today, well, he'd smoked his competition, and that just left this one final heat, and even then, the only challenge he saw here, was that of Errol himself.

"Hey, Jak!" came a voice that made him smile beneath his racing helmet.

He turned, and found Keira walking towards him, a frown on her face.

"What is it, Keir?" he asked, calling her by her nickname.

"I want you be careful," she said, her voice concerned, "Errol's dangerous on the track, and this time you can bet he'll be out for blood."

"I'll be careful, don't worry about a thing," the dark elf told her, reaching out to stroke her face gently, "I didn't come through all of this to get waxed during a speeder race, nor do I intend to buy it when our little plan gets underway."

She smiled and nodded, before pulling him close, causing Daxter to let out a suggestive whistle. The two elves ignored him, holding onto each other for a time, before Jak at last broke the embrace, and hopped on the speeder bike, starting it up and easing it out onto the track.

His faster racing times had gotten him one of the front spots, as logic dictated that placing your speedier racers in the back of the starting lineup would make for a very nasty looking piece of modern sculpture. And so he sat where he was, starring over the readout H.U.D. on the main display screen, checking to make certain that all of his systems were in full working order.

Before long though, he heard another bike come up next to him, and he looked over to see his nemesis, his eyes, visible due to the fact that his helmet visor was up, burning with an almost insane rage as he glared at the dark elf.

"I want more than just to win today, Eco Freak, I want you!" Errol hissed, his left hand balling up into a fist.

Jak's reply was an ages old elven salute to a most hated foe, one that involved the use of a certain finger. Errol recoiled, shock and anger manifesting itself in what part of his face could be seen, it having been a while since anyone had dared to give him such a gesture.

Even more embarrassing for the commander of the Krimzon Guard, was the fact that the Ascended Channeler's action was caught on the jumbo sized vid-screen that the stadium had in its possession, meaning that everyone caught a glimpse of this act of defiance.

'**_I think that victory should be easy enough.' _**Kage mused suddenly.

'_You're awfully confident.' _Jak responded, returning his attention to his H.U.D.

'**_You watched his own races,'_** the demon said, explaining himself, **_'he has skill, that is irrefutable, but I think he has become complacent in his victory, as it's doubtless been a while since someone dared to be a challenge to him. He's been sloppy in a few of the turns, and made other mistakes that would have cost him the race under normal circumstances.'_**

'_Now that you mention it,' _Jak concurred, _'I think there were a few instances where he screwed up, I guess everyone's just too scared of him to try and beat him.'_

'**_Fear can be a powerful motivator.' _**The oni stated, holding up a clawed finger, before falling silent as a hover platform came down in front of them, holding none other than Baron Praxis and a two elf honor guard.

"Greetings, all of you." The tyrant said, spreading his arms wide. "Let me congratulate each and every one of you for making it this far, but the true challenge lies with this race. Nevertheless, to the driver who conquers this track shall go the winner's trophy, bragging rights, and a tour of the palace." He stared around at them all, his gaze lingering upon Jak, and the dark elf swore mentally.

'**_He knows.' _**was all Kage said.

"With that," Praxis said, a smile making its way over his face, "I bid you all good luck, and ask that if you have to die, that you do so bravely."

His speech finished, the Baron's hover lift pulled back and away to the middle of the track, where he could watch from the best seat in the house, so to speak.

With one final glance at Errol, Jak leaned forward, his foot tensing against his speeder's accelerator.

One second passed, and he tightened his grip on the handlebars.

Two seconds, and a bead of sweat made its way down his forehead.

At the third, there was the sound of a gunshot, and in a flash, they were off, Jak and his nemesis instantly vying for control of first place.

* * *

Two elves entered a predetermined public restroom, sweatshirt hoods pulled low over both of their faces. Another elf, clad in similar gear, leaned against the far wall, nodding in acknowledgment of their presence. The person then gestured to two of the stalls, and left.

The two newcomers headed over to the pair that had been pointed out, and opened the doors. Within, they found a series of backpacks hanging from the inside walls, and began gearing up for what was about to happen. Even from here, they could hear the roar of the crowd as the final race began, and they knew that they didn't have much time.

As fast as they could, they unzipped the packs, and got ready, knowing that the first shots of this operation would fall upon their shoulders.

In a way, it felt almost comforting, to be suiting back up together after all of this time. True, they were about to charge headlong into one of their most dangerous missions yet, but for the first time in years, they'd be doing it together. It was that tiny detail, that brought some measure of reassurance to the two brother's in arms.

About five minutes later, they were done, which wasn't all that bad, considering how much room they had to work with. Almost simultaneously, they slipped on their helmets, and activated the electronic systems of their armor. Again, almost as one, they opened their respective stall doors, and stepped out.

Just as someone else was stepping in.

There was a bit of an awkward moment as the elf, who looked to be in his mid forties, stared at the two armored warriors, his mouth apparently having unhinged itself from the rest of his face.

The two gray armored soldiers also exchanged glances, before shrugging and activating something. A pair of bugged out eyes accompanied the dropped jaw as the two men faded into blurs, and walked past the civilian, heading out to one of the staircases leading up to the stands.

* * *

The wind howling past him, Jak blew across the finish line, a good three second lead between him and Errol. It had been a close one, but as his guardian devil had pointed out, the commander had made several critical mistakes that wound up costing him the race.

Jak kept going, heading around on a well earned victory lap as the other racers, save for Errol, cleared the track. All the while, a thunderous applause came from the audience, as they cheered him on.

He slowed down as he came back around to the finish line, throwing his arms up in the air in celebration before dismounting his bike. Still, he did not allow himself to be too distracted as he enjoyed his victory over Errol, as the sociopathic commander was still on the track, and it wasn't too hard for him to image his nemesis trying to run him over.

Thus, he had his back turned when Praxis came back on the hover lift, a grim smile upon his features. The Baron held up his hands, and silence fell over the stadium. Slowly, Jak pivoted back around and faced the usurper, removing his helmet as he did so.

"Well done, renegade," Praxis remarked, crossing his arms over his chest, "it seems there are other things you can do besides cutting down my men."

"Why don't you come down a little closer?" Jak inquired with a smirk, accentuating the statement with a 'come here' gesture. "You and I need to have a talk."

"You still don't understand it, do you?" the scarred elf replied, rubbing one of his temples. "Everything I've done, I've done for this city, to make it stronger, strong enough to crush our enemies. And for those who have died as a result, they are casualties of battle, and their deaths are inevitable!" he said, sweeping his arm about, his one eye gazing over the crowd.

However, as he did so, something caught his eye. Down in the pits, walking out into the open, was that female elf, Keira, he believed her name to be, that had been with Jak at the Tomb. She was once more clad in her armor, and held Kitetsu by its scabbard in her right hand, while the other clutched a rifle with an almost obscenely long barrel. He was puzzled as to what this meant, as there were several hundred guards posted in the stadium, a security measure just in case the Underground were to try something today.

However, before he could dwell on that anymore, the sound of an elf swearing at the top of his lungs reached his ears, causing him, along with the majority of the people in the stadium, to look to its source.

He saw a K.G. grappling with something, he couldn't tell what from this distance, and gestured for one of his body guards to hand him his macro-binoculars. The elite did so, and as he zoomed in, Praxis saw the man struggling against something that was hidden in the shadows of a stairwell entrance. He blinked, but still the man appeared to be wrestling with nothing more than thin air. However, that theory, along with any that he might have been having some sort of freakish seizure, was promptly dispelled when blood began to gush from his throat as something penetrated it.

Grasping at his clearly mortal wound, the man fell to his knees. However, before Praxis could even digest this new threat, another guard, standing some twenty paces away, was made shorter by a head, again by some unseen assailant.

Then, almost at the same time, the hidden attackers became visible, gray armor phasing into view, causing several people to recoil in surprise. Memories flashed through Praxis' mind as he watched the two of them descend down the stairs, their steps perfectly in synch with one another. One, his armor carrying several black highlights, clutched a rifle in his hands, and the other, this time having orange flames, carried a couple of submachine guns.

The orange one then reached into his utility belt and pulled out something, before bringing it in front of his helmet and fiddling with it.

"Testing, testing," Jynx's voice came from over the P.A. system of the stadium, "would the tyrant on the hover lift please wave if he can hear me."

"Could you just get one with it?" Torn growled, his blood practically boiling from the close proximity of his enemies.

"'Baron' Praxis," the Revenant began, his voice now deadly serious, "for too long you have sat upon Haven's throne, which you took by blood. For years, you have used fear and intimidation to prevent anyone from standing up to you. You've had entire families thrown into prison or otherwise silenced, and you have trampled our rights and our freedoms into the mud!" Jynx paused, and looked around with his built in macro-binoculars, noting that everyone was in place for the operation. "Today, that changes. Today, marks the beginning of the end!"

"Bold words, Delta." Praxis shouted in return, mistakenly calling them by their old name, "But do you really think that the four of you are a match for everyone here?" the Baron finished his remark with a smirk.

However, that grin was swiftly removed from his face once a person who was in the front rows of the stadium, stood up, and removed a hood that had been covering up her face. The despot's single eye widened as he saw his own daughter staring back at him.

"Who said anything about there only being four of us, father?" she said, glaring at her old man.

Something about what Ashelin said put him on edge, and he stared about, wondering perhaps, if there were more hidden soldiers out there.

As it turns out, there were, but not in the way that he was thinking. However, moments before the operation swung into motion, he figured it out. Looking out over the various people in the stands, he had found it rather odd that a good number of them were wearing jackets, coats, and other long types of clothing. Though there was a slight chill in the air, it was not cold to the point where those types of articles were needed.

The very instant that Praxis figured it out, Jynx let out a war cry over the P.A., and hundreds of people threw off the concealing clothes, revealing weapons that ranged from heavy blaster pistols, to the by now infamous morph guns. A second later, a gun battle erupted within the stands.

Many K.G. were gunned down in the opening moments of the battle, killed by an enemy that had been sitting right next to them all day. Those that did survive the first few frantic moments of the fighting, quickly found themselves outnumbered and out maneuver, dodging and taking fire from all directions with virtually no place to take cover.

Praxis' elite bodyguards were quick to get the hover lift out of the area, with one of them knocking their leader down and throwing himself on top of him for good measure.

Jak, seeing the tyrant about to escape, felt within himself, calling upon his dark powers. However, a warning from his ears, Keira, and Kage prevented him from completing the intended attack. The dark elf wasted no time, leaping up and too one side as he heard the distinctive sound of a racing zoomer accelerating towards him. Still in the middle of his leap, he stuck his hand out, and Keira felt Kitetsu rattle within its sheath for a split second, before shooting off to answer its master's call.

The very instant that the Ascended Channeler felt his fingers grasp the hilt of the dark katana, he twirled about, bringing the blade up. Unfortunately, he aim was a wee bit off, so he merely sliced the front off of Errol's racing craft, rather than cutting up the rider as he had been intending.

Still, this effectively removed any form of control that the commander had over his speeder, forcing the sociopathic elf to abandon ship or face some really nasty consequences. He hit the ground, prosthetic shoulder first, his racing suit tearing itself open and his helmet cracking under the assault of the dura-crete, creating some very painful wounds, but nothing he couldn't deal with.

For now, his anger created a nice distraction from the pain, and he sent out the signal from his brain to the microchip, and Jak watched, temporarily surprised, as part of his racing uniform was ripped away, revealing his arm cannon. That was all the warning he would get before Errol opened fire on him, forcing him to weave Kitetsu back and forth in a frantic attempt to deflect the Eco bolts.

Still, despite everything, he managed to get enough of a break to somehow conjure up a dark bomb, which he hastily chucked at his nemesis. Errol's eyes widened, and he leapt to the side, launching off his own powered up shot as he did so.

Jak, quickly realizing that an attempt to deflect the blast was out of the question, threw himself over the barrier that separated the track from the pits area. He landed next to Keira just as the shot connected where he had been standing, and even from where he was, he was able to feel the concussion. He looked over to the aqua haired elf, and the two of them nodded rising up at the same time.

Only to find nothing.

They exchanged a glance between themselves, wondering why in the world the K.G. commander had suddenly decided to flee the scene. However, they were swift to realize that although one foe had escaped, there were still many that had to be dealt with. Keira leveled her sniper rifle, taking aim at individual targets, and began to pick them off with ease.

Jak simply shook his head as he watched her. This whole operation had been dependant upon her to begin with, and she had performed admirably. The security around the stadium had been tight, but she had been able to sneak in during the night and effectively tweak one predetermined metal detector, and just that one. While the others had functioned as they were supposed to, that one had had its sensors altered to the point where Sig could have walked through it in full battle gear and it wouldn't have so much as peeped.

That had been the easy part, now it came time for them to win the actual battle. With that in mind, Jak called deep within himself, and was instantly answered with a certain bat winged demon appearing in his mind's eye.

'_You up for some fun, buddy?' _the dark elf inquired, raising an eyebrow.

'**_It shall be my pleasure to serve.'_** Kage responded. **_'Do you wish for me to use Juyo, or the Ataru style?'_**

'_Stick with Ataru for now, I'd rather not advertise the ace up our sleeve this early in the game. _Jak told him, and the creature nodded. _'Also, try to keep the casualties to a minimum.'_

'**_Did I hear you right?'_** the demon asked, somewhat confused.

'_Call it a gut feeling, but I think there's going to be a time pretty soon where we're going to need every elf who can carry a blaster rifle.' _Jak explained, getting a frown from his guardian devil. _'See if you can't 'convince' them to surrender instead.'_

'**_I believe that is within my abilities.' _**Kage replied, a crooked smile coming over his muzzle.

And with that, the Ascended Channeler relinquished control over to his alter ego. The orb of darkness formed around him, and with an otherworldly scream, the oni manifested itself.

That cry was the thing the Krimzon Guards had been dreading, and many struggled not to try and flee as they saw the demon take to the air, its wings propelling itself towards the closest group at a nightmarish pace.

The squadron, which consisted of about eight guards, turned their attention away from the rebels they had engaged, and did a double take as Kage landed scant feet from them, a growl making its way from his throat. However, as the Underground soldiers ran off to deal with the next threat, the demon still refrained from attacking, opting to merely take few steps forward, while brandishing Kitetsu menacingly.

"Umm, Sarge?" One of the men ventured, his voice little more than a squeak. "I don't know about you, but getting down on our knees and begging for mercy is starting to look better by the second!"

"Your subordinate has the correct idea," Kage rumbled in his distorted voice, "throw down your weapons and surrender, and your lives will be spared."

Needless to say, eight blaster rifles quickly clattered to the ground, and were just as swiftly turned into slag via some Dark Eco lightning. And just as quickly, eight guards slumped to their knees, and placed their hands upon their heads, lest they wind up losing that rather vital body part.

'_Nice work.' _Jak replied, watching from within his own mind as the tactic worked.

The oni growled in both approval of the guards' actions, and at receiving that bit of praise, before taking wing to another location within the stadium, repeating the tactic that it used on the first group, with no small amount of success.

However, Kage was not the only one battling. The halls and passageways of the stadium had also turned into a battleground, and it was here that Keira, Tess, and a handful of other Underground troopers made their own assault, having made their way down there from the fight in the racing area.

* * *

After all, with the Dark Eco demon flying about in the main part of the stadium, the K.G. there were practically racing to toss down their weapons and give up before the thing had a chance to turn them into confetti. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for those in the bowels of this place, as they seemed all too eager to try and crush this rebel assault. Of course, considering what they were up against, try was indeed the key word here.

Lining up a K.G. in her assault rifle sights, Keira fired a four shot burst, and the elf dropped, his foot twitching as he expired. Not pausing an instant, she sighted another elf up, before dropping him as well.

The way clear for the moment, she shouted for the others to pick up the pace, and they quickly moved up, attempting to find cover before the next wave arrived to try and drive them back.

The Krimzon Guards were quick to answer their bold challenge, thundering down the hall, their minds knowing that they would destroy these insolent guerilla fighters.

However, their dreams of victory and glory were derailed when something very much unexpected happened. Literally from out of nowhere, came an assault, as Eco bolts seemed to materialize out of thin air, blowing out lights, and invisible blades slit throats.

Keira and the others held their fire as the K.G. panicked, throwing down suppression fire in all directions as they attempted to find who was killing them with such ease, and the mechanic herself was tempted to smirk. Unfortunately for the crimson armored warriors, the partial darkness, combined with the near invisibility of the two Revenants attacking them, made a lethal combination, and the last one died screaming, a wrist mounted vibro-blade slowly becoming visible through his shattered chest armor.

Their active camouflage switched off, the two Revenants materialized like wraiths in the semi-darkness of the hallway, their visors making them appear almost like their namesakes.

"Absolutely amazing," Jynx breathed, adrenaline surging through him and he stared around at the carnage that he and his squad brother had just unleashed, "I vote that the resident tech-head gets a medal for this once we finally win the city back."

"You won't hear any argument from me, brother." Torn replied, staring over to the object of their conversation, who looked ready to blush, despite the situation.

Fortunately, Tess bailed her out of such an embarrassing scenario by inquiring as to the status of the battle.

"Upper area's secure," Jynx replied, staring absently at his DC-17, before opting to reload it, "with demon boy hanging around there, the K.G. can't surrender fast enough, and they're behaving quite well, lest he change his mind."

"As for the rest of the place," Torn said, "Ashelin and her groups have pretty much got the eastern lower levels cleaned out, and the rest of the Krimzon Guards are starting to pull back. I think we might have actually won this one."

No sooner did those words leave his mouth, than a tell tale clacking sound began to emanate from further down the corridor, and Keira leapt over a vending stand, rushing forward as Kage rounded the corner, his red eyes shinning.

"You okay?" the aqua haired elf inquired, looking the demon over.

"Yes." the oni responded, nodding his head before looking to Jynx and Torn. "Most of our foes were wise enough to realize themselves outmatched, and have been directed to the race track, where a few soldiers guard them."

"That just leaves any reinforcements from the outside to deal with." Torn mused, before turning and racing off in that direction, the others hot on his heels.

However, when they arrived, they were in for a nasty shock.

* * *

Daxter scurried through the corridors, trying desperately not to be trampled in the stampede of civilians who were attempting to flee away from the fight. Abruptly, he found himself having to leap back to avoid the lumbering steps of one particularly overweight spectator, cursing loudly as he did so.

He ducked down one side passage, thinking it relatively safe for the moment, and paused to collect his thoughts.

He was surprised to find out that the Underground had been planning on launching an attack on Praxis during this event, and it rather bothered him that no one had thought it important that he know that. He began to recite a conversation in his head, planning on how to best convey righteous indignation once this whole fiasco was over and done with.

Unfortunately, distracted as he was, he didn't hear the footsteps behind him until it was too late. A shadow fell over him, and the Ottsel turned around, and found himself staring at the knee region of a battered yellow racing uniform. Looking up, he realized that he was looking none other than Errol in the eye.

"Uh-oh." He muttered, gulping and turning to run.

However, before he could so much as take two steps, the commander yanked the diminutive rodent off his feet, holding him up by the tail as he examined him.

"Well, well, well, what have we here?" He said to himself, that old evil glint coming into his eyes. "Daxter, is it?" he asked, thumping the former elf upside his head when he failed to reply.

"What of it, psycho?" the Ottsel shot back, surprising himself with his amount of defiance.

"Today might just be my lucky day after all." Errol mused aloud, before a crackling sound emanated from a comm. unit on his waist.

"Yes?" he asked as he put it up to his ear.

"Errol," came Baron Praxis' voice from the other end, "pull everyone back, and do it now! The Underground takes this round!"

The Commander of the Krimzon Guard snarled in rage, but did as he was ordered, initiating an evacuation code through him comm.

He then made haste to get out of stadium, as while he had faith in his abilities, and a rather good hostage for that matter, he knew that there would be some resistance soldiers who wouldn't care about the fuzzy rodent clutched in his right hand, so great was their hatred for him. Thus to make himself scarce would be a good idea, until he could force his enemies, one in particular, to meet him on his own terms.

And so, not too gently carrying Daxter, the sociopath made his way to the entrance, sprinting all the while.

* * *

And so, with timing that made one wonder if fate had a grim sense of humor, Kage, Keira, and the other arrived just in time to link up with Ashelin at the stadium entrance, and watch as the last of the K.G. loaded up onto some drop ships, doing their best to get the hell out of there before anything else could go wrong.

Furthermore, they were just into time to watch Errol hop onboard one of the last ones. Upon seeing this high value target, guns were leveled, while at his host's urging, Kage rushed forward at top speed. However, as if sensing him, the commander promptly turned around, revealing Daxter, and the arm cannon that was currently pointing at the Ottsel's head.

The oni stopped short, roaring in fury at this tactic. And before he could think of anything to do, the ship began to lift off and pull away from the area.

"Coward!" Kage snarled, electricity surging over his balled up fist. "This is far from finished!"

"You're right about that, Freak!" Errol shouted back, before the sound of the powering up engines drowned him out.

The drop ship fled after that, leaving the rebels to their victory.

However, as Kage relinquished control, and Jak appeared once more, it became obvious that it was not a complete victory, as the dark elf radiated anger over what had just occurred.

Keira was much the same. Much as Daxter may have managed to grate upon her nerves, she still saw him as something of a friend, and thus the notion of him being in harms way like that sent rage through every fiber of her being.

Tess rounded out the trio, torn between fear at what Errol might do to the pint sized rodent, and rage towards herself for not making certain that he was safe. Keira laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, while Jak, panting to the point where one could practically see steam coming out of his ears, unleashed a dark bomb at an abandoned K.G. speeder bike, destroying it.

Even after that, though, he had to struggle to maintain a balance and not let his hatred overwhelm him again.

Nonetheless, all of them swore they would get Daxter back, even if they had to mount an assault upon the palace compound itself.

* * *

&

* * *

Okay, that looks like a good place to stop, and it seems as if Jak will once again have to bail Daxter out of a bind. In the mean time, it will let you imagine just what sort of fiendish tortures that Errol will be submitting him to...

Okay, for some reason the idea of Daxter being locked in a cage, forced to listen to opera music just popped into my head.

Also, as DarkStarPhoenix pointed out in a review, and animedragongirl has suggested, I am in need of a beta reader so I do not keep making these little careless mistakes that are driving me up the wall!

So if you'd like to help me out like that, let me know, and also don't hesitate to leave a comment or a constructive criticism, and I still am open to ideas regarding dark and light powers.

Also, just so you know, I went back and revised chapters eight and twenty one just a bit so you can tell my OC Precursor apart from the rest of his black clad buddies.

Finally, I leave you today with a quote from Peter Anspach's Evil Overlord List. Note, had the Jak and Daxter villains bothered to read these rules, these three inparticular, they likely would have won.

Rule Forty Nine

If I learn the whereabouts of the one artifact which can destroy me, I will not send all my troops out to seize it. Instead I will send them out to seize something else and quietly put a Want-Ad in the local paper

Rule Fifty Six

All members of my Legions of Terror will be trained in the art of basic marksmanship. Anyone who cannot learn to hit a man-sized target at 10 meters will subsequently be used for target practice.

And finally, Rule Fifty Seven

Before employing any captured artifacts or machinery, I will carefully read the owner's manual.


	27. A Tyrant’s Lament, and a Fight to the Fi

Hi everyone, good to see you again. What's not so good is that school is starting agin for me in a little bit, which means that my updates might not be quite as fequent. Still, despite what my teacher's are going to try and throw at me I shall do my best to keep Risen Demon updated on a regular, weekly basis. Still, If I'm late on a particular chapter, it probably just means I had a monster test(s) that I was study for, just so you know.

Also, I want to send my sincerest thanks to **animedragongirl **who has become my Beta Reader, and whose careful picking through this document made it significantly better than it would have been otherwise. (bows)

Also, to those of you who were so kind and reviewed the last chapter.

**Shakai- **Yep, for a better description of that rule, see also Star Wars: Storm Troopers! And yeah, I gave Jak the Sephiroth style trench coat, figured it would do until the sequel, where he'd going to get his Predator styled version of Mar's armor. (And believe me, it's going to do A LOT more than simply protect him this time around) (cackles insanely). On another note, I will tell you now that it will not be Praxis' arse that is going to be kicked, dear old Count Cromedome will actually die a good death in this story. As to whose butt is going to be handed to him on a silver platter, you'll just have to read. That said, I hope you like this chapter.

**Xeno-Freak- **The modified chapters pretty much just contain some alterations that I made to Tarath in order to make him look a little more different than his fellow Dark Eco users. As far as the Revenants are concerned, I'm glad that you liked the modifications to their armor, and yes, the K.G. will have a whole new fear of the shadows now, between them and Jak. As far as Daxter being tortured goes, I haven't really decided, but I'm fairly certain that the methods of which will simply have something to do with Errol's lifestyle i.e. the music he listens to, the things he does, etc. etc. You wouldn't happen to have any ideas on what to do about that, would you?

**Philoworm- **Thanks again for the ideas, I don't think I'll be giving them to Jak, but that Doomsday attack seems to me as if it would be an excellent Fallen Precursor torture device, and I think I know just who it'll be used on in the sequel. (insert evil laughter) On another note, yes Daxter has been kidnapped, but don't worry, our Dark Channeler and Keira are not simply going to stand by and let him rot in a cage for two years.

**animedragongirl- **Once again, I cannot thank you enough for Beta Reading this, and I think I managed to catch all of the mistakes, though the 'this city' stuff did confuse me slightly, and for that I apologize, but I think that I managed to fix it up. Also, sorry to hear that your scanner isn't working, as I would really like to see your drawings. Thanks once again, and I hope to have the next chapter ready to for you soon.

**just another writer- **Glad that you liked the chapter, and to answer your question, I am going to make a sequel, though it will be at least semi-AU. Differences will include the appearance of Mar's Armor, the role that the Precursor's and certain other characters like Vin and Damas play, etc. etc. Also, as far as the Sand King is concerned, I am actually thinking about not killing him off at all, what N.D. did in that cutscene was not only cliché, but utterly and completely evil! Also, any ideas regarding a adaptation of the third game would be greatly appreciated if you have some. With that in mind, here is the next chapter, hope you like it.

**Lunatic Pandora1- **Hehehe, if you think that Torn and Jynx are like Predators now, wait until you see Jak when he gets Mar's gear in the sequel, (Heavens above, Scar kicked so much arse in Aliens Vs. Predator.) Also, thank you once again for the idea on the dark Tyrael type foe, I'm thinking that some kind of cruelly serrated long sword would complete the picture, any other ideas for a weapon?

**Every Heart Bleeds- **Yeah, that was one thing that bugged me about the third game, as it was a major plot hole, and those are my pet peeves. In my opinion, that's why the second game is the best of the series, because not only did it have great gameplay, but it had a solid plot that actually had enough twists and turns and depth to practically put it on level with an RPG type game. (How many other platforming games can claim that?) In fact, I can tell you now that Errol will not even be a cyborg, but something, much, much, more dangerous. (I'll drop a hint in the chapter after this one.)

**SRHumphrey727-** Congratulations on your birthday, and may you have many more in the future. I'm also pleased that you liked the K.G.'s reaction to Kage's appearance, as I wanted to try and give it realism. Let's face it, no ordinary person is going to go after something like that, they're going to either beg for mercy or run like the gates of Hades had just been opened behind them. Also, more fighting in this chapter, hope you like it.

**DarkStarPhoenix- **Glad you liked the last chapter, and thank you for the idea on the Light Eco power, I was thinking about some offensive abilities for our 'mysterious' little user of that type. As to the hoverboard, I'm honestly not sure about that, truth be told, I'll probably give it to him at some point in the third game adaptation, as he and Keira will be MUCH closer by that point in time, and his safety will be priority number one for her. Other than that, thanks again, and I hope you enjoy this chapter just as much, even though it ends in something of a cliff hanger. (insert more evil laughter).

**MariaShadow- **Yeah, Kage is pretty clueless about things like romance and whatnot, but that will change with time. Also, glad that you thought the chapter was an improvement over how it went down in the game, and its funny that you should mention such a thing on the Evil Overlord list because...well, its up at the end of the chapter.

To those of you who read but did not review, I hope that you enjoyed my works, and I pray I did not scar anyone for life.

Lawyers: look, if I owned the darn thing, this is how it would have happened, never mind the fact that the game probably would have sold abysmally.

Also, a word of warning, Praxis is very, very OOC in this chapter, as I am going to try a little experiment and see how it goes over.

That said, here is Chapter Twenty Seven, and I do hope that you enjoy it.

* * *

&

* * *

A Tyrant's Lament, and a Fight to the Finish

Baron Praxis looked out the window of his private quarters, staring down from the heights onto Haven City, a city that wasn't even truly his anymore.

Three days had gone by since the revolt at the stadium, and it had turned out to be the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. That one act, that single move by the Underground, had ignited the powder keg, and before the Krimzon Guard had even realized what had been happening, they'd found nearly half the city rising up against them.

Riot busters and shock-staves had failed to keep the citizens back as they'd turned upon the enforcers of the tyrant, some attacking with guns, others with knives or whatever else might have been scrounged up.

In fact, several guards had been treated for trauma wounds to the head and missing teeth when a crazed elf had walloped them with a frying pan of all things.

Others had been so desperate as to launch themselves at his soldiers with nothing more than their bare fists. Compounding this problem was the fact that the Underground itself had launched some very fierce hit and run style attacks upon his garrisons, one of their strange assault vehicles actually getting close enough for a gun run on the palace itself before auto-turrets drove it off.

In short, things were going straight to Hell in a hand basket.

And for once, he was at a loss for what to do. He just couldn't understand why things were happening as they were. Yes, he'd achieved power through a coup, restricted freedoms, and silenced those who'd spoken out against him, but they'd been for the purpose of unifying the people. Yes, he'd drafted and conscripted enormous numbers of young men and women into the Guard, but only for the purpose of getting the military back up to full power as quickly as was possible. As for the deal with the Metal Heads, well, that'd been both a stalling measure and a means by which to lull the beasts into a false sense of security until one of his plans was up and operational.

Even the Dark Warrior Project had been done with the intention of helping Haven out in the long run. He knew that his own forces were not going to be sufficient enough to launch another assault upon the Nest. However, with even a small force of killing machines like what Jak had become leading the way…well, then it would be a different story.

Everything he'd done and sacrificed, he'd done with the intention of bettering Damas' former city.

"You don't really believe that do you?" came a voice.

Praxis whirled about, he hand going to his blade as he scanned his room, wondering who had just spoken to him. Finding no one, he raised the one eyebrow that he had, wondering where the voice could have come from, and for that matter, why it sounded so much like his own.

"Over here." It said again, and this time he could clearly hear it coming from his right.

Slowly, he turned, and saw his reflection in a mirror, the one luxury item that he had in his otherwise very much Spartan room. At first he stood stock still, not wanting to believe what he was hearing, and at last, he groaned.

"Congratulations, Geoffrey," he muttered, rubbing his head plate, "you've finally let the stress get to you and something in this old head's broken. Funny, though," he said with a bitter laugh, "I would have thought going off of the deep end of my sanity would have been far more dramatic than this."

"Are you done ranting yet?" his reflection inquired, and the Baron could have sworn that he saw it cross its arms. "Still, you've been living in a delusion for the past three years, why should that change now?"

"What do you mean?" Praxis said, turning his head to the side.

"Look at what your actions have done." It explained. "You took over Haven in a bloody coup, for the Precursor's sake, man, you murdered your own sister, and you tried to kill her son, your own nephew, a mere child!"

"It had to be done!" he snarled defensively, clenching his fist and closing his eye. "We wouldn't have survived with the two of us fighting against each other for control of the city!"

"Oh yes," his reflection replied sarcastically, sweeping its left hand out, "and Haven certainly isn't divided now, oh no, the elves have never been more united against the Metal Head threat." It stopped, pointing a finger at him. "Strike one, despot. Furthermore, what about the Dark Warrior Project, how many did you murder for that?"

"It was a measured risk." He replied, his voice half hearted.

"A measured risk?" his reflection said, its tone disbelieving. "You knew the odds of such a thing working were a million to one! And yet you did it anyway, strike two."

"It was a million to one chance in exchange for millions of lives!" Praxis hissed quietly, once more trying to rationalize his decisions.

"If you say so." It responded with a shake of its head. "But the fact remains, Praxis, that no matter how hard you try, you're never going to be like Damas, and unlike him, I sincerely doubt that Haven City will mourn for you when you pass on, which I do believe will be soon."

"Then we agree on one thing, at least." Praxis muttered, before turning away, unable to bear facing the truth any longer.

His footsteps those of a man weary of the whole world, Baron Praxis made his way over to his bed, and opened one of the two drawers in a metal nightstand by it. Within which, covered in dust, was a hologram generator. For the first time in as long as he could remember, the scarred elf switched it on, cycling through the various three dimensional images. Finally, he reached one, and he stopped, his one eye roaming over it, capturing every detail.

It was a hologram that had been taken the day that Ashelin had finally been given command of her own unit, and she bore her new facial tattoos with pride and a beaming smile upon her face. He was there next to her, his face that of the proudest father in the world, a smile on his visage and he had his hand upon her shoulder.

And finally, practically wrapped around his head, was Alex, grinning impishly and trying to get in the picture as much as he possibly could. He'd just turned two when the image had been taken, and between his uncle and his father, had been doing more than his share of hero worshipping.

And how had he repaid the nephew that had looked up to him? He'd been the one to return from that catastrophic assault, rather than his father. It should have been him that had died, not Damas. Furthermore, he'd gone on to kill his mother, and would have doubtless killed him too, had Torn not managed to get him out of the palace.

It was then, in that moment, that Praxis finally seemed to see the truth of things, and realize just what he had become.

A monster, a tyrant, a murderer.

It was then, that the Baron did something that would have sent any sane person reeling: he broke down and wept.

* * *

It was some time later, when he finally emerged, his visage once more stoic, even if his soul threatened to tear him apart from the inside. From his room, he made his way down to where he believed he would find Errol, the two of them needed to have a talk, and fast.

Sure enough, his right hand man was running himself through a training kata, wielding a blade not too dissimilar to his own, if somewhat smaller. Errol's skill with a sword was pretty good, even if the commander did prefer a blaster to one. Still, Praxis knew why he was brushing back up on these techniques, and knew without a shadow of a doubt that they would not help him in the slightest.

He looked over to his left, where he saw, guarded and in a cage, Daxter. The scarred elf sighed, shaking his head as he took in the sight, wondering why his commander suddenly seemed so eager to leave the mortal coil behind.

As fate would have it, Errol chose that moment to stop his routine, turning around to face his superior.

"Hello, Sir." the sociopath responded, his usual grin upon his face.

Praxis merely nodded, not saying a word as he mulled things over in his head, trying to figure out how best to say what it was he wanted.

"Is something wrong, Sir?" Errol inquired, not sure what to make of his superior's sudden muteness.

"Do you really mean to go through with this, Errol?" the Baron asked after a time, gesturing over to the imprisoned rodent.

"Of course," Errol responded, a slight glint in his eye, "this opportunity is a godsend, a chance for us to tear out the heart of the rebellion with a single stroke. They're relying too heavily on Jak, eliminate him, and the whole thing falls apart!"

"Errol," Praxis said, sighing softly, "give this up, your pride is not worth dying for."

"What?" his second in command said, looking at the Baron as if he'd suddenly lost his mind.

"Errol," the scarred elf said quietly, "have you really become so blind as to think that you can possibly beat him?" abruptly, his voice nearly tripled in volume. "He's beyond you, a fight between the two of you would be over in seconds!"

"Which is where the little rat comes in." Errol replied, his tone condescending, and having no small amount of anger present in it. "With him as a hostage, Jak will be less inclined to take advantage of certain abilities that he has at his disposal."

"Errol…" Praxis began, before suddenly throwing his hands into the air. "Fine, let's say you do manage to kill him, then what? You'll destroy our best hope of keeping this city in one piece!"

"Come, again?" Errol said, his voice a venomous hiss. "You actually think that Freak can save this city?"

"Don't be a fool if you can help it, Errol." Praxis said, shaking a finger at him. "You know as well as I do that the Metal Heads have scouts running all over this place, that we can't keep them all out. They know what's going on, and divided as we are at the moment, you can bet they're already gearing up for an assault!"

"So what would you have us do?" his right hand elf asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Throw ourselves at the mercy of the people, promote that demon in elf's clothing to the rank of a general?"

"Make no mistake, Errol," Praxis said, "before this is all over and done with, you and I will both be dead. But for the love of the gods, don't throw your life away over something so trivial!"

"Am I hearing this right?" the commander of the Krimzon Guard snarled, looking Praxis in the eye as if he'd lost his mind. "You're telling me to just let the renegade win? That we should just give up and let the mobs come and hang up from the nearest tree branch?"

"I'm telling you to let go of your pride before it gets you killed, Errol! This city will need you, I will need you, for what is coming, and we're going to need Jak and the Underground as well!" Praxis shot back, clenching a fist.

"You're off your bloody rocker!" Errol practically screamed, before motioning for the handful of elites standing around Daxter to follow him and bring the rodent with them.

Praxis merely sighed, and looked towards the heavens, before heading back up to his quarters. One thing was for certain, he'd need a new commander for the time being, at least until his inevitable overthrow came. Perhaps Captain Toshiro? He was a good, down to business soldier, and he had a sharp mind, though there could be no doubt that his combat skills weren't anywhere near Errol's. Then again, that might be a plus, seeing it was those skills that were currently deluding his soon to be late commander into thinking that he had more than a snowball's chance in hell of beating Jak, hostage or no.

Furthermore, the elf was a marksman, which made it all the better for his first assignment as acting leader of the Krimzon Guard.

* * *

The dark elf paced back and forth in Keira's workshop, the cogs of his brain working overtime as he tried to figure out what to do about this new development. Tempting as the idea had been, storming into the palace and attempting to take Daxter back by force was out of the question, as he had no doubt that Errol would kill him as soon as he showed his face. A more subtle method, like taking advantage of his newfound cloaking ability was also not going to work, as design schematics indicated that the whole place was covered by heat sensors, no doubt to prevent Metal Head Cloakers from sneaking in.

This had left him at a loss, and Keira had her hands full just trying to comfort Tess, who was out of her mind with worry. Jak could most certainly sympathize with the blond haired elf, as he knew just what Errol could do when he put his sadistic mind to things.

Thus, he had been quite surprised when a K.G. had entered Underground held territory unarmed and under a flag of truce, bearing a message from his commander.

Long story short, Errol had challenged Jak to a mono-e-mono duel out at the strip mine, with Daxter's life being the prize at stake. Naturally, being the twisted little bastard that he was, Errol had laid down a few ground rules: no powers, no assistance, no anything that could in any way, shape, or form help him out.

Naturally, such rules more than likely did not apply to his nemesis, and Jak had little doubt that Errol would do all in his power to make the coming contest a rigged one.

And the time for their meeting was this very night, so time wasn't exactly on his side.

What was he supposed to do?

'_**If I may offer a suggestion?' **_Came the by now familiar voice within his head, as Kage bowed before his mind's eye.

'_You have an idea?' _Jak inquired, pausing in his pacing and cocking his head in a certain way, a manner which revealed to both Keira and Tess that there was a conversation going on inside of his noggin.

'_**Our nemesis is trying to put us into a rigged game which we cannot win.' **_the oni said. _**'However, wasn't it you who told me that the first rule of warfare was to make your own rules?'**_

'_Of course!' _Jak thought, slapping himself in the forehead as he now realized the obvious.

If Errol was trying to beat him in a stacked contest, then the best way for him to win would simply be not to play by the commander's rules. Okay, he had a way to come out on top, now he just had to figure out how best to implement that strategy. The first thing that came to mind was the obvious, that his nemesis would believe that Jak's concern for Daxter would be so great that he would not dare think to violate the rules of engagement.

Now, while it was true that the dark elf did care for the Ottsel, indeed, as the safety of his best friend was currently numero uno on his priorities list, he was also smart enough to realize that him dying because he couldn't make use of his own skills wouldn't exactly be conducive to the diminutive rodent getting out of the mess he was in, either. Simply put, he'd have to run the risk of bringing along help in order to ensure Daxter's safety in the long run, as he had little doubt that Errol would have guards around him as insurance.

Practically running, the Ascended Channeler headed over to a map of the strip mine that was on one of Keira's workstations, as he'd been using it earlier to try and get a good route to the meeting place. Now, though, he scanned it for a different reason.

He smiled grimly after looking over the region for a few seconds. The place that his foe had chosen to meet him was a carved out depression that was up on a cliff next to a ravine filled with Dark Eco. However, more important than that, were the two ridge like areas that ran up next to the place one of which would enable a person to approach from unseen from the battleground.

In short, a perfect sniper location.

'_**Plus, knowing the K.G., they will likely have their attention focused upon you and Errol, rather than scanning the area for potential intruders.' **_Kage mused. _**'I suspect that Keira would be able to deal with them before they even knew what was happening.'**_

"Yeah, that'll work beautifully." Jak concurred aloud, whirling around to face the aqua haired elf.

* * *

Captain Ryan Toshiro made his way to the throne room, unsure as to why his superior had called him away from the front lines. Granted, there had been a temporary lull in the fighting, but these kinds of intercity conflicts had the annoying tendency to flare up and die off at a moments notice.

On the other hand, that might just mean that whatever Baron Praxis wanted was of priority one importance. In which case, getting to his destination in a timely manner would be a very wise thing for him to do.

And so, with that thought in mind, the yellow armored soldier quickly began to double time it towards where he was suppose to be, his pace getting up to a jog as he progressed. At that pace, he was soon passing through the doors of the throne room.

Praxis was inside, his hands clasped behind his back as he stared out through one of the large windows, once more looking down upon the divided city that Haven had become. Toshiro walked towards the center of the room, before assuming a ramrod straight salute, standing at attention until Praxis turned around towards him.

"At ease, captain." the Baron said, walking over to the soldier, his face a grim mask. "Do you know why I've called you here?"

"No, Sir." the captain replied, removing his helmet and running a gauntleted fist through his close cropped black hair.

"I suppose you have heard what Commander Errol is up to?" the scarred elf inquired, slowly pacing over to the windows again, and motioning for the officer to follow.

"I only know that he managed to acquire a target of high value during the Underground assault upon the stadium." Toshiro replied, as he stayed a full step behind his superior.

"The 'target' that the commander managed to acquire was the small creature that the renegade, Jak, always has following him around. Daxter is his name." Praxis said, crossing his arms over his chest. "And Errol means to use him as a hostage to force a confrontation between himself and the renegade." The baron paused, and brought one hand up to rub at his temple. "In fact, he left about two hours ago to head out to the strip mine, where the two of them were supposed to face off."

"With all due respect, sir," the captain said, his voice incredulous, "I've read the reports about what the renegade is capable of, do you really think that the commander can come out on top of such a confrontation?"

"Not without a few dirty tricks." Praxis responded, as he looked back over his shoulder at the yellow armored elite. "Which is why I am sending you out to the strip mine."

"Sir?" Toshiro inquired, not quite sure what to make of the situation.

"You were trained as a marksman in basic, where you not?" the Baron asked, turning the rest of the way around.

"Yes, Sir, sniping is my area of expertise." the captain said, a faint smile on his face. "Do you wish for me to ensure the renegade's defeat?"

"No, captain, I do not." the scarred elf replied with a shake of his head. "I want for you to head out there and ensure the safety of both the renegade, and his little pet."

This was certainly not what the elite had been expecting to hear, and he all but rocked back on his heels when he was told this. Not to mention there was a comical look of confusion upon his face.

"I am not sure that I understand the situation, Sir." he began, doing his best to keep his tone respectful.

"Errol's pride has clouded his judgment, and has made him a danger to this city." Praxis said, his voice deadly serious. "I've been fighting Metal Heads for most of my life, captain, and I know, without a shadow of a doubt in my mind, that they're planning an attack." he paused once again, his good eye staring Toshiro straight in the face. "They don't need us, and they believe us to be helpless for the most part. And, seeing as how our other plan has yet to reach its implementation stage, Jak will be vital to the defense of the city. Therefore, I want you to do everything in your power to ensure that he does not meet a premature end, do you understand?"

"I do, Sir." Captain Toshiro replied grimly.

"Good," Praxis said with a nod, "now dismissed, soldier."

The officer pivoted about and turned to head down to the nearest armory, when suddenly, the Baron stopped him.

"Captain," he said, pulling something out of one of his utility belt pockets, "here." He then threw a small box-like object at him, which Toshiro caught easily. "Consider that official, for now. I suppose the bureaucracy will catch up soon enough."

The officer looked down to the object in his hand, and slowly opened it. What he found inside amazed him: the dress uniform markings of a commander. Slowly, he looked up to his superior, who simply nodded and returned his attention to staring out the window.

Surprised as he was, Toshiro still understood that the sudden promotion was also a subtle reminder of just how far he was supposed to go to protect the dark elf.

* * *

The wind howled in his ears once again as he raced towards his impending clash with his nemesis. Night had long since fallen, for which the Ascended Channeler was quite grateful, as it would mean that Keira, traveling a few minutes behind him, would be that much harder to spot once she got into position.

Despite the risk that it put both her and Daxter in, Keira had readily agreed to Jak's plan. Still, this didn't mean that the dark elf would be completely home free, as she would be getting into position the old fashion way: ground pounding. Knowing what was at stake, neither of them wished to run the risk of someone, by some freak chance, picking up the sound of another approaching zoomer.

His mind drifted as he stared around at the ruined remains of the mining operation, thinking about how much had changed since he had bailed Vin and the other workers out here. He'd come to terms with what he'd become, re-forged the relationship between him and Keira, and a host of other things. None of which would have been possible without Daxter's help, not to mention the fact that the Ottsel was the reason he was still drawing breath in the first place.

And now he was in the clutches of the very same elf that had so cheerfully tortured him, and who would have been responsible for his execution had it not been for the little rodent's heroics.

Frankly, both Keira and Jak were taking it rather personally.

Jak only hoped that he was able to beat Errol without killing him, at least not right away, as there were a few things that he wanted to know before he sent Errol straight to Hell.

* * *

Finally, he arrived at the place, hopped off his speeder bike, and began walking towards where he was supposed to meet his nemesis.

It had taken him a little bit longer to reach here than most would have expected, as he had stopped at one point next to a pit of Dark Eco, before drawing Kitetsu and plunging the katana up to the hilt in the substance. As the Oracle had said, the blade drank of the toxic substance, the crystal on the end of the hilt and the runes glowing a deeper violet as it fed.

Once that had been accomplished, he'd mounted back up, and sped along until he reached his destination.

And now, peering around a corner, he found that Errol did not plan on disappointing him. His foe stood in the center of the area, with several floodlights illuminating the surroundings. More importantly, he could see, next to a transport, several K.G. elites standing guard around a small cage. Within it was Daxter, looking unharmed physically, but very agitated, as he was pacing back and forth within his small confines.

An idea came to mind, one that would hopefully unnerve the guards around his friend, and therefore, make them all the easier to dispatch once things got underway. He focused, and anyone watching would have been amazed to see the trench coat clad elf suddenly fade away.

Cloaked like this, Jak began to make his way into the makeshift arena, his steps measured and even, his eyes narrowed to a glare.

"Where is he?" Errol grumbled, tapping his foot impatiently, before turning to look at Daxter.

"You know, Errol," Daxter said, opening his mouth yet again, "for someone who I thought to be such an evil genius, you're certainly being very unoriginal."

Said commander and his men looked down at the Ottsel, who simply placed his hand against his forehead and sighed.

"Okay, let me spell it out for you." the former elf grumbled, before gesturing around at everything. "You have me, in a cage, in a desolate wasteland type environment, using me as bait to lure in my best bud that you just happen to hate with all of your guts. I mean, for the love of the Precursors, could this be any more cliché?"

"Quiet, you little rat," the commander spat, "or I might simply decide you're not worth the trouble and shoot you here and now!

Daxter, an indignant glare upon his face, opened his mouth to make another one of his famous retorts, but was cut off a certain cloaked elf.

"You wouldn't live long enough to regret doing something like that, Errol." Jak hissed, now not more than fifteen feet from his nemesis.

The K.G. commander spun about, his eyes darting around while the guards behind him leveled their rifles in a vain attempt to locate the renegade. Imagine the looks on all of their faces, then, when Jak suddenly phased into sight, his arms crossed over his chest, and his slitted eyes looking ready to kill.

Errol, once he'd recovered from his shock at his adversary's sudden appearance, raised an eyebrow at the Ascended Channelers choice of battle gear, as if trying to figure out just how much protection the strange armor would provide. After a few seconds of this, he let his eyes return to Jak's own gaze, and he finally opted to speak.

"So, you did have the guts to show up after all." the sociopathic elf spat, a smile forming upon his face. "I must say I am surprised, I would have thought you somewhat reluctant to go into a fight without being able to call upon your vaunted Channeling powers." Errol continued melodramatically, looking back over his shoulder towards Daxter, who simply rolled his eyes, and slapped his forehead with his hand.

"I don't need my powers to beat you!" the dark elf snarled, and in a flash, Kitetsu had appeared in his hand, its runes glowing violet in the artificial light.

Errol smiled in an arrogant manner, before backing away and drawing his own weapon. For a few seconds, both opponents simply stood where they were, each awaiting the other, each wanting their foe to make the first move.

'_**Watch his eyes.' **_Kage advised, and Jak did so.

After all, he'd noticed it many times, that right before launching an attack, elves and Metal Heads both had a instinctive tendency to open them just a might bit wider.

And sure enough, that was what happened as Errol lost patience, and lunged at Jak, who easily brought Kitetsu down to block the attack, and then ducked beneath a kick that the commander had aimed at him. Quickly, the dark elf swung his Precursor forged weapon at his nemesis' exposed back, only to find Errol's own blade coming back to intercept it, forcing his towards the ground. And then, with a battle cry, the K.G. commander attempted to backhand Jak with his cybernetic arm, a blow that he only just avoided.

The Ascended Channeler performed a back flip, and landed a good twenty feet away from Errol, before bringing his blade up to an attack position and glaring at his opponent. The K.G. commander did the same, and for several moments, there was a lull in the fight while the two of them slowly circled one another, each trying to find a weakness, something that could be exploited.

This time, it would be Jak that struck first, leaping forward, bringing the dark katana up from below in an attack that would have spilled Errol's guts all over the ground had he not parried. Not deterred in the slightest, Jak pressed his attacks, slicing to and fro as he attempted to bring his opponent down, Kitetsu hissing eerily the whole time, like the very air seemed to part before the blade.

However, his offense was stolen away when his sociopathic nemesis suddenly knocked Kitetsu up high, before following through with a thrust kick to his chest that cracked a rib and sent him staggering. Fortunately, as Errol brought his own ferrosteel weapon down in an attempt to split the dark elf's head open, Jak was able to get Kitetsu up in time to deflect the attack, and the two blades grated against each other for a few seconds, sending sparks flying as the two adversaries snarled in each others faces, Jak smiling inwardly as he healing factor took over.

Abruptly, Errol broke the blade lock, and backed away, balling up his left fist. Jak let out a curse as the arm cannon popped out, sending a hail of Eco bolts at him as he furiously weaved Kitetsu back and forth as he frantically backpedaled in an attempt to get some distance between himself and his foe.

Oh how he would have loved for Errol to get to know his Channeling powers a little better at that point in time, but with Daxter currently having a half dozen elites standing around him, he wasn't about to take that kind of a chance. He would simply have to wait and play along, baiting Errol and letting him think that he was winning, or at least still putting up a decent struggle, until Keira was able to get into position and neutralize his escort.

Then, things would change.

Such were his thoughts as he leapt into the air in order to avoid a charge type blast from the commander's bionic arm. And it was also at that time that he decided that he'd need to get up close and take away Errol's ranged abilities, as sticking his arm out like that in a sword fight would be a very good way to get it hacked off.

As he attempted to close the distance, Errol opened fire once more, and Jak leapt forward and to his left, performing a barrel role type spin while in mid-leap, Kitetsu deflecting a few bolts that came close as his foe adjusted his aim. Jak performed the maneuver yet again, trying to throw Errol off, before a third such leap placed him back in melee range.

Roaring in fury as he blocked the dark elf's opening attacks, Errol swung with all of his enhanced might, and Jak opted to duck below the slash, rather than attempting to block it. However, the wisdom of such an action was revealed an instant later, as the Ascended Channeler continued through with his acrobatics, and brought his right foot slamming up into Errol's face as he pushed off with his left.

The K.G. commander felt stars explode in front of his vision as the kick, driven by Jak's vampire like strength, connected. In a blind attempt to buy himself some time, he once again deployed his arm cannon, firing wildly in the direction of his opponent.

Jak, still in the process of landing from his flip, had no time to react, and snarled in defiance as several of the Eco bolts connected with his chest. However, much to his surprise, the electro mesh vest that he was wearing absorbed them with relative ease, though he did feel a sudden temperature rise where they had connected.

In an attempt to remove himself from the rather precarious position that he now found himself in, Jak leapt once more, going up and over Errol, before coming down in an attempt to get rid of that little annoyance on the commander's arm once and for all.

Unfortunately for the dark elf, his foe was able to spin out of the way in time, and he once again lashed out with his cybernetic arm. On the bright side of things, Errol's blow was made hastily, and as a result, was quite clumsy and easy to avoid. Such a move also left a gaping hole in the K.G. commander's defenses, something that Jak was swift in taking advantage of.

Kitetsu sang as it came in from below, and to his credit, Errol saw it coming and leapt backwards in an attempt to ward it. However, he was not able to avoid the strike in its entirety, as the diagonal slash mark that appeared on his cheek indicated.

For a second the fighting halted, and brown eyes locked with slitted blue ones, each burning with equal hatred, while the owner of the latter pair deftly spun his blade about, the red stain upon it revealing the truth for all to see.

First blood went to Jak.

Errol apparently didn't like that too much, and he once again brought his arm cannon to bear upon the Ascended Channeler, firing as fast as he could at them.

Daxter, having a death grip upon the bars of his cage watched as his best friend expertly deflected the barrage that was sent at him, and then leapt over yet another charge blast. The Ottsel's mouth was dry, and he swallowed in a vain attempt to solve the problem, while he and his captors remained transfixed upon the battle taking place in front of them.

Jak managed to score another hit, drawing a small line of crimson from his foe's left leg, causing Errol to snarl in a combination of fury and pain, and him to let out a silent cheer.

The dark elf however, was growing irritated at having to stall, and was wondering where Keira was.

* * *

Keira leapt off of her speeder bike, not even bothering to wait for it to come to a full stop, and then broke into a flat out sprint towards the slope leading up to ledge that she'd chosen to snipe from.

Panting, she raced up as fast as she could, able to hear the sounds of combat even from where she was. Still on the go, she did her best to reassure herself that Jak would be fine, that he was more than a match for anything that Errol could possible throw at him.

As she neared the top of the ridge, she slowed down, and slumped down to her stomach, crawling up the rest of the way to do her best to avoid detection. In this manner, she arrived at her little perch, and got her morph gun, set to submachine gun mode for transport, and switched it over to its snipe mode, before swiftly loading a clip in, and sighting up the first of the yellow armored elites standing around Daxter's cage.

However, even as her finger eased down towards the trigger, she remained completely unaware of things happening not too far from where she was, where an unknown ally was getting into position to help her out.

* * *

A crimson colored military bike came to a stop, and an elf, unarmored and clad in black, got off, grabbing an S2-AM sniper rifle from the rear of the zoomer, before carefully slinging it over his back. Once it was in position and secured, he put on a black, ski mask type hood, and grabbed a second gun, an assault rifle, and began to make his way towards his own set up location, which, coincidently enough, was at a near ninety degree angle from where Keira was going to be.

The end result, even if it were to be unplanned, would be a very deadly little crossfire for anyone unfortunate enough to be on the business end of their guns.

Reaching the slope to his own ledge, Commander Toshiro holstered his assault rifle, before drawing his longer ranged weapon. He then began to serpent crawl up the rocky terrain, ignoring the very much uncomfortable miscellaneous pointy things that were gouging him in the stomach, his orders echoing through his head.

A couple of minutes later, he arrived, and lined up his sniper rifle, his initial thought being to put a bolt right through Errol's head and let that be that. However, as he watched the Baron's now former right hand and the dark elf duke it out through the scope of his rifle, and did his best not to get sucked into the fight as the elites guarding Daxter had, he found, much to his dismay, that they were too close to each other and whirling about too much for him to get a clear shot in. Normally, Toshiro would have had enough confidence in his abilities to go ahead and fire anyway, but Praxis had explicitly told him not to take a course of action that would endanger the renegade.

He'd also made mention to the fact that Errol would not be able to come out on top of this confrontation between the two of them without having some rather underhanded tricks under his sleeve. One of which was apparently, as the renegade was not making use of them, using the little rodent to stop Jak from using all of his powers.

And thus, he realized that the removal of the guards around the Ottsel would likely get rid of that little annoyance, and thus enable the dark elf's triumph.

As luck would have it, the first elf that he chose to gun down, was standing right next to the one that Keira had sighted up. Furthermore, both he and the aqua haired elf fired at about the exact same time, a faint cough coming from his rifle while Keira's let out its cannon style boom.

Despite that, even an amateur would be able to tell whom hit whom, as Toshiro's shot left a good sized burn mark upon his target's head, while Keira's left her target devoid of anything even vaguely resembling such a body part.

There was a comical moment as both snipers watched the corpse next to their chosen elf fall, a baffled look upon each of their faces as they realized they weren't the only ones at work here. However, both of them simply shrugged and went back to getting the job done, as a quartet of fallen bodies attested to moments later.

Errol, still attempting to figure out what in heaven's name was going on, saw the fire come from both directions, and realized, in that instant, that he'd made a mistake.

Jak, meanwhile, took this opportunity to back away from his foe, getting a good bit of distance between the two of them in order to start to pull out his trump card. He and Kage had both conversed earlier, and both felt that this would be an excellent chance give the Juyo style a 'test run' on a living target.

Keira was busy as well, getting up from her prone position, and carefully making her way down the edge of the small cliff that she was on, letting Errol see just who had been responsible for the destruction of half of his escort. However, she also took the time to look over to the other ridge as she attempted to figure out just who her mysterious little helper had been.

All she saw was a dark figure rise, and give her a salute, before turning around and making his way back down the slope. After a moment, she refocused her attention on getting down.

Errol barely gave her a glance, as he was more occupied with Jak, and after she'd touched down safely, she look over and saw why. A grim smile reached her face as she realized what the dark elf was about to unleash upon the hapless commander.

The Ascended Channeler was whipping Kitetsu back and forth, but not moving at all. He spun the blade around a few times in his right hand, before tossing it over, still spinning, and catching it with his left, looking his nemesis dead in the eyes the whole while. He kept this up for some moments, before bringing the dark katana back to his right hand. He then brought it over towards his left hip, before swinging the blade out and up.

It was halfway through the stroke when it happened. The Dark Eco crystal on the end of the weapon flashed, as did the Precursor runes along its blade, and dark lightning surged outwards from the sword. As Kitetsu traveled through the air, this phenomenon gather behind it, until what almost looked like a shadowy copy of the katana appeared. Reaching out, Jak grabbed the phantom blade with his left hand, before he began to seamlessly whirl it in tandem with the original, both weapons distorting the air that they passed through.

After about ten seconds worth of this shadow sparring, Jak stopped and looked down towards the dirt. With a slight exhalation, he brought the two katanas around in a circle, scrapping them slightly against each other as the passed his chest. Then, with Kitetsu and its copy held down at about a forty five degree angle to the ground, he looked back up, his eyes boring into Errol's own.

* * *

&

* * *

Alright, there's a good stopping place.

To anyone whose confused about what just happened with Kitetsu, I will tell you that one of the blades most unique abilities in Ninja Gaiden was that it would become two swords as well as being able to such the life out of its adversaries (which is what made Doku so freaking hard in the first place, as he could recharge about half of his health with a single attack, and he had a lot to begin with.)

Now, in light of Jak being about to lay the holy smack down upon his nemesis, I have a question for anyone reading this. Xeno-freak pointed out that demons have the ability to teleport for the most part, and I have been thinking about giving Jak sort of a Night Crawler type short range teleportation ability, as well as Kage. However, I shall leave it up to you to determine if he should receive such an ability.

So, with that in mind, I hereby beg you for ideas and constructive criticisms, heck, you can even flame me if you feel like, but please let me know what you thought of the chapter.

And, for MariaShadow, I leave you all with a few more things from the Evil Overlord list

Rule One oh Seven

Even though I don't really care because I plan on living forever, I will hire engineers who are able to build me a fortress sturdy enough that, if I am slain, it won't tumble to the ground for no good structural reason.

Rule One Twenty

Since nothing is more irritating than a hero defeating you with basic math skills, all of my personal weapons will be modified to fire at least one more shot than the standard issue.

Rule One Thirty Nine

If I'm sitting in my camp, hear a twig snap, start to investigate, then encounter a small woodland creature, I will send out some scouts anyway just to be on the safe side. (If they disappear into the foliage, I will not send out another patrol; I will break out the napalm.)

Rule One Fifty Nine

If I burst into rebel headquarters and find it deserted except for an odd, blinking device, I will not walk up and investigate; I'll run like hell.

And, finally, Rule One Fifty Five

If I know of any heroes in the land, I will not under any circumstance kill/kidnap their mentors, teachers, romance interests, and/or best friends.


	28. Of Visions and Payback

(Phases into existence, humming "Nightmare Zero")

Hail to you all once again, and to anyone who recognizes the above mentioned tune, yes, I am a nerd and darn proud of it!

In a bit of a rush here, trying to get as much of this sucker done before I go back to school on the 22nd, and I once again thank **animedragongirl **for taking time out of her life to correct my many spelling and grammar errors. (bows)

Okay, the whole teleportation idea has had mixed reviews, but I decided I would experiment (I have an alternate version just in case the idea really doesn't go over well) with it once **Tony **said that it could be like the time stop ability you receive in Jak 3, since our dark elven hero is not going to be receiving any light oriented powers. However, it is not without its flaws. 1. It is an extremely short ranged ability, the most that Jak can do is move sixty feet in any direction. 2. It is very loud, with a cracking type noise that splits the air as he disappears and then again when he reappears, there also a 'mist' of Dark Eco, so its not a stealthy thing. 3. As it was with Nightcrawler, Jak actually has to be able to 'see' where he is going to go, if he can't picture the place in his mind, then it doesn't work. 4. It is extremely draining to use extensively, and using it multiple times in a row can also be very disorienting, so its normally only a 'get the heck out of the way' type defensive maneuver, or something to be used when you really want to humiliate an opponent.

That clarified, I want to thank and respond to everyone who reviewed.

**Philoworm- **Yeah, I've seen those kind of fights before, and the only one that was actually interesting to watch was Nightcrawler's in X-men 2. Still, the technique has quite a few flaws, so Jak won't really be using it all that often. As far as that whole scene with the mirror, the reflection was supposed to be Praxis 'conscience' finally catching up to him and telling him how bad of a boy he's been. As for your ideas, the 'dark bolts' make their appearance in this chapter, and the Shadow Flare ability its what Kage used to blow up that tank (its basically what he has instead of the dark strike power) and the 'Darkness Overload' will be used in the final confrontation with the Metal Head Leader (the best time to use such overkill type attacks) (insert cackling). That said, I hope you like this chapter, and thank you once again for your ideas. (bows)

**Xeno-Freak- **Yes, Errol is in trouble, However, due to a complete freak chance of nature/Deus ex Machina type salvation, Errol will survive, and become something more dangerous than Cyber-Errol could ever hope to be in his wildest fantasy (I personally never really like the whole terminator wannbe look myself). Also, the being responsible for saving his sorry arse will also provide something of an ironic and morbidly humorous plot twist when all is said and done. .

**Dar Kash Elin- **You get your wish, my friend, hope that you enjoy it.

**MariaShadow- **Yeah, Errol's going to have a lot of pain in the future, though I won't say just how, though there will be some slicing and dicing involved. (insert evil laughter) Also, glad you like Ryan, he'll make a couple more appearances in this story, as will Benton, the other K.G. OC of mine. Hope you like the chapter, especially when it comes time for Errol to receive his just desserts.

**Farr2rich- **Hope you liked your vacation, and I was glad to see you update your own story as well. Yeah Praxis is OOC cause I'm trying for a 'redemption' type deal with him, as they way he bought it in the game, kind left me disappointed, as if there was so much more to him that we never got to find out. Oh well. And yes, Onin was responsible for making Jak into one of the strongest being in existence, which will be necessary, as Metalliucus Cranus Leaderus will be capable of kicking major butt in this version (I always felt they made Kor way to easy to beat, for Pete's sake, the guy made a career out killing Precursors!) Hope you update your own story soon!

**DarkStarPhoenix- **Yes, I am evil, I know that. And thanks for the flaw ideas with the teleport ability, it is very short ranged as I said. About Ashelin coming onto Jak, no that will not happen. Praxis was Damas' brother-in-law, making him Jak's uncle, making Jak and Ashelin, first, cousins, and that would just be gross. Besides, I always felt that she and Torn were supposed to hook up, and perhaps they will in Jak X. About the Dark Sludge...I'll try to fit it in somehow, but that sounds more like a elven military weapon for incapacitating an object without having to cause lasting damage to it. Thanks though, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

**tony- **Thank you very much for your way of thinking about the teleport deal, that's what made me go through with it in the end. (bows humbly) Hope you like it, and what happens to Errol.

**FuaiyaaNoRyu- **You flatter me, and I am glad to hear that you think my writing is detailed, as it is what I shoot for. I'm also glad that you think I am very good on the romance subject, as I have absolutely no experience in that area, (chuckles nervously while scratching the back of his head) hope you enjoy this chapter, as I'm throwing in yet another AU concept.

**GoodMorningBeautiful2005- **Alright, here you go, please enjoy.

**just another writer- **Yes, I am planning a sequel that will go through Jak 3, though that one will be even more AU than Risen Demon. As far as Keira is concerned, though, she will, at least initially, be staying at Haven to fight the good fight (I am thinking about her being an honorary Revenant). However, once Jak return and saves the day, they will once again be at it side be side. And yes, those islands will be brought into the fold (I'm probably have some sort of Precursor research facility be on/underneath them any ideas?)

**Lunatic Pandora1- **Actually, Kitetsu has one move at its disposal (that will be seen in this chapter) that was taken straight from Agni and Rudra of DMC3. As far as the Hammer Blade is concerned, I don't think the dark angel will be receiving it, mostly because it would be a difficult weapon to use when flying. However, that does strike as a weapon that would be a good for someone else I'm going to try and get in. (he's sort of the 'Marauder King' if you will, provided I can get a decent name for him, as I want him and Damas to have a mono-e-mono square off when Jak launches his attack upon the marauder fortress). Thanks for the ideas, and I hope you like this chapter.

**animedragongirl- **Thank you for the weapon ideas (I've decided to call the templar weapon a Force Pike after reading your thoughts on the subject) (bows). I also cannot thank you enough for proofreading my works, and to answer your other question I am a proud resident of Marianna Florida. Hope your scanner decides to cooperate with you soon.

**ChibiSess- **Thanks for the flaw ideas on the teleporting deal, I wanted it to be something that he could use, but not something he would do very often, if you know what I mean. As far as Praxis, there will be one other thing that he does that was sorta inspired by Spider Man. As for your other comment, well, there is one thing I have noticed in my short life, and its this: Women rule the world, we men just think we do. Also, hope your family issues weren't anything too serious, and I hope to read more of your works in the near future.

**Air of Mystery- **Acutally, I went through and played Jak 2 with the subtitles on, and Erol was spelled like that, but in the third game, they started spelling it with a second R, why, I know not, so I just decided to go with the version that my spell checker said was correct. Glad you liked the chapter, and I hope you enjoy the K.G. commander's painful 'demise.'

**Light-Eco-Sage- **Yeah, I read about your connection woes, and I know how that is (my parents switched to DSL after our old provider crapped out on us, and it took nearly a month to get everything together). Hope you like the romance, I know your big on that sort of thing, and when you manage to get your new e-mail address, please let me know, as I have a few ideas I want to ask your opinion on. Also, I hope you've had a chance to write some of your own stories, as there are several that I am eager to catch up on .(bows)

**Every Heart Bleeds- **Thank you for your input, and rest assured, Jak is tough, but he is not invincible, (let me go ahead and tell you that in his final confrontation with Kor, that the old bug will damn near kill him, and something just about up there with divine intervention is all that's going to save his elven butt.) That said, I hope that you like this version, and I pray that the AU idea at the end of the chapter goes over well. (crosses fingers)

To those who read but did not review, I do hope that this story has been entertaining thus far, and that it continues to do so.

Lawyers: see the previous twenty seven chapters for the disclaimers.

Now, on with the story!

* * *

&

* * *

Of Visions and Payback

Errol stared at the dark elf, and at the twin blades that he now held within his hands, knowing full well what Jak was about to do with them. Faced with this, and realizing that he was now completely and utterly screwed, Errol did something that many would have found quite funny.

"Eep!" He said, his voice rather like that of a mouse that had just been stepped on.

In the next instant, Jak he launched himself as his nemesis, Kitetsu held up in front while its shadowy double was cocked back, all the while screaming out a battle cry that would have likely had Torn quaking in his boots.

However, when there was still a good distance between the two of them, Jak's eyes flashed for an instant, and then a loud 'crack' split the air. There was a mist like flare of darkness, and the Ascended Channeler vanished. Errol had about half a second to wonder what in the Nine Hells was going on, before a similar crack and flash happened about five feet in front of him. The dark elf emerged from the dispelling vapors, both blades flying back and forth in a dizzying series of combos that the K.G. commander tried to keep up with.

Alas for him, that it proved to be something of a futile exercise, as within three seconds, Jak smashed through his defenses and scored a hit along his chest, Kitetsu's phantom twin cutting through armor and cloth with ease, but stopping a literal hairsbreadth from slicing into his skin. Once the stroke had been finished, Jak launched himself backwards with a superhuman leap, coming down twenty feet away as a portion of his foe's chest protection hit the ground.

Once more, Jak glared at Errol, and swung his two weapons back and forth a few times, reminding the doomed commander what destiny was in store for him. Errol, still watching for the slightest hint of the Ascended Channeler coming at him again, felt that old sense creep back up, one he had not felt since the ill fated assault upon the metal head nest. He knew in that moment, that he was as good as dead.

His thoughts were forced back to the present as Jak ran at him again. The dark elf came in hard and fast, his twin katanas mere blurs through the air, hissing ominously as they foretold his fate. To his credit, Errol did his best to fight down the panic that was rising in his gut, and try to keep his foe from turning him into meat grinder fodder.

However, he once more failed after the first few strikes, and this time Kitetsu came in at shoulder level, cutting one of his pauldrons off before Jak ducked down and swept his feet out from under him. He felt a sense of vertigo as he lost his connection to the ground, swiftly replaced by a crushing pain as his nemesis, still spinning, rose back up and planted both of his feet in chest. He sailed backwards and hit the ground, skidding hard over it, and waited for the end, but it did not come.

Slowly, he looked back up, and found his foe once again standing several feet away, apparently waiting for him to get back up on his feet. Errol realized then what Jak was doing, the thrice be damned freak was _toying_with him, mocking his skills and everything he was capable of doing, as he had apparently been doing the whole time.

Well, if Jak wanted to play that way, then he would just have to suffer the consequences of not killing him quickly.

The K.G. commander leapt back up, and activated his arm cannon, pointing it over in the direction of Daxter, still stuck in his cage, and Keira, who was currently using her gauntlet vibro blade to try and saw through the bars. However, even as he was sighting them up, there was a pair of hissing sounds, and he looked over in the direction that the sound was coming from to find both Kitetsu and its dark copy whirling towards him. He leapt to the side in a frantic attempt to avoid the two katanas, but he wasn't fast enough as he felt one tear through his arm cannon, while the other one scored a hit along his ribcage.

As he finished his roll, and choked back a growl of pain, he saw dark energy forming in Jak's left hand, and a trio of Dark Eco orbs were quickly shot his direction. He noticed that they were pretty small, and as he dashed out of the way, that they didn't have much for splash damage, but at the current moment, that could hardly be considered wonderful.

Jak raced towards him once again, reaching out to grab both swords as they arced back through the air towards him, before whirling the blades around again. Once again, Kitetsu's runes flashed, while its copy glowed as well, and the next thing Errol knew, crescent shaped 'waves' of Dark Eco were being thrown at him. This forced him to jump around yet again, as he knew coming into contact with those things would likely be very, very painful.

Once he'd managed to avoid them, as there had been about a dozen all together, he barely had time to get his own weapon ready before Jak was upon him once again, both blades flurrying too fast for him to keep up with. An instant later, the dark elf scored yet another hit, the shadow blade cutting him across his thigh while Kitetsu kept his own sword up too high for him to do anything about it. Immediately following that, the Ascended Channeler brought his weapons down low, before bringing them both of up an 'X' shaped fashion.

He saw it coming, Dark Eco streaking off behind both of the katanas, and he jumped backwards, but yet again, was not able to get all the way out of range before the attack struck. The 'waves' that this particular attack created were far larger than the ones the blades had formed before, but they only jumped out a few feet from the source, rather than streaking across a great distance as the first ones had.

Still, that few feet was enough for them to connect with him, and they tore into his armor. He felt the dark substance eat through his clothing and agony surge through him as it was absorbed by his skin.

The pain, oh gods above, the pain. The Dark Eco was like a fire burning through him, ravaging his systems as it went deeper and deeper into him. He tried, but he could not hold back a tortured scream that would have likely woken the dead had such a thing been possible. Still, he somehow managed to stay on his feet, at least until an armored boot left a nice print shaped mark upon his face, crushing his nose instantly and throwing him onto his back.

"Come on," he heard his foe hiss, "get up! I'm not through with you yet!"

The remark, coming from that freak, almost sent Errol over the edge of his sanity, and gave him the strength to will away his pain and get back up, his eyes burning with almost satanic fury as he lunged at Jak, his blade held high above his head before he brought it slamming down. Kitetsu's shadowy twin swatted it aside almost lazily, and the original weapon parried the next stroke.

For almost thirty seconds, Jak polished his defensive maneuvers as his nemesis tried futility to pierce through the whirling blades.

Keira, who had finally managed to free Daxter, stood next to the Ottsel and both watched this display. It had been one thing for the mechanic to watch Jak use these techniques in training, but to watch them be unleashed for real…

It was, as before, strangely beautiful, the way his hands seemed to talk to each other, the way he moved both blades in tandem with each other one second and completely independently the next. He seemed, at that moment, more an athlete than a warrior struggling, and she used that term in the most liberal manner possible, against his nemesis.

A couple of seconds later, Jak grew tired of the defensive way of fighting, and whipped both Kitetsu and its copy around to where they were point side down. He then brought them downward, catching a thrust that Errol had been aiming at him. What happened next would have made one wonder where Jak had taken gymnastic lessons, as he jumped up, still pushing down on Errol's blade, and brought his feet up over his head, before planting both of them squarely into his foe's face and chest. He then pushed off, sending Errol on yet another trip to the ground, while he landed back on his feet, his arms held straight out, his face once more directed towards the earth.

The K.G. commander forced himself to ignore the pain in his face and sternum, getting back up, coughing up a bit of blood as he did so, his eyes glaring hatefully at the dark elf.

Summoning all his remaining strength for one last attack, Errol rushed forward yet again, his blade held back. Once he was in striking distance, he thrust forward, aiming for Jak's heart, screaming like a mad man.

However, the dark elf had apparently grown tired of humiliating his foe, and decided to end it then and there. As Errol close the distance between the two of them, he brought both Kitetsu and its phantom twin in from the sides, as if he were going to cross them. The two katanas bit into the commander's own blade, sheering it in half and leaving the sociopathic elf with little more than a hilt with which to use.

Even as Errol's eyes widened as he realized what had happened, Jak performed another back-flip, planting both of his feet into his nemesis' chest and blasting him up into the air. As the K.G. commander felt his breath leave his lungs and instinctively brought his arms around to nurse his crushed and shattered ribs, there was another of those loud cracks, and Jak once again vanished in a cloud of mist. A similar noise from above and behind him a moment later attested to where the dark elf had reappeared. Errol had just processed that bit of data when he felt an armored boot hit him along his back, cracking several vertebrae in the process, and a screeching of metal and circuitry attested to the fact that his left arm had just been hacked off…yet again.

As he plummeted back towards terra firma, he braced himself, only to hear another pair of cracks once he was about ten feet from the ground, and he promptly received another boot in his side.

However, Jak still wasn't done yet. As Errol sailed away from him, now in a far more parallel path to the ground as opposed to perpendicular, he dispelled the shadow blade in his left hand, and thrust it outward. An instant later, lightning once more burst from his fingertips, and connected with his nemesis.

Errol screamed as the Dark Eco surged through him again, and when he finally hit the ground, there was smoke rising from his burnt clothing, while the air stank of medium rare elf.

The K.G. commander was still very much alive, though. Jak didn't want to kill him right away, no, that would be too good for him.

And so, with slow, deliberate steps that foretold what was about to happen, and gave him a chance for a breather of his own, he sheathed Kitetsu and walked over to Errol, who had managed to roll over one to his back, despite the pain he was in.

He saw Jak coming, and noticed that the dark elf was panting like he was exhausted. Thinking, that, despite the enormous disadvantage that he was at, that he might take advantage of his foe's fatigue, Errol made a move to get back up on his feet. However, as he got to his knees, the dark elf's hands suddenly came up, and lightning came forth from both of them, overwhelming him with the pain, and blasting him back to his prone position.

"Stay down!" Jak snarled.

The Channeled Dark Eco continued to surge over the elf for several more seconds, with the sociopath screaming at the top of his lungs the whole while. Abruptly, Jak stopped, and looked over to Keira and Daxter.

"Do you think I'm being too harsh?" he asked out of the blue.

The aqua haired elf and the Ottsel exchanged a glance with each other, before looking back at the Ascended Channeler.

"Nope." Keira replied.

"Nah-uh." said Daxter.

'_**Most certainly not.' **_came a rumble from within his head.

"Okay." Jak responded, before resuming his previous activity.

Once Errol was positively steaming, the dark elf ceased his assault, granting his foe a slight breather.

"Not so much fun when you're to one getting pumped full of this stuff, now then is it, hmm?" he inquired, squatting down next to the charbroiled commander.

"If you're," Errol panted, struggling to keep enough air in his lungs to breathe, "expecting me…to beg for my life…you're…going to be disappointed!"

"I'm not entertaining any delusions of that sort, Errol." Jak said with a smirk and a chuckle. "I know you're too proud to beg. But there is one thing I want to know before I kill you."

"And what…would that be?" Errol growled, his chest still heaving.

"How many of us were there?" the dark elf inquired.

"Hell if I know." Errol responded, only to get another lighting blast.

"Wrong answer!" Jak hissed, keeping up his assault upon the helpless elf for a few more seconds before he stopped. "Now," he began once more, his voice clam and measured, "I know that there were at least twenty five others besides myself," he said, placing his hand against the part of his chest that had the tattoo inked into it, "but I know there were a lot who never survived their first treatments, and were never placed on record…so how many of us were there, Errol."

Errol answered him with yet another profanity, forcing the dark elf to resort to yet another assault upon his nemesis, until he at last seemed more willing to cooperate.

"About…a hundred and eighty." Errol replied with a gasp, his teeth clenched.

The next thing that he was aware of was of a pain in his chest, where Jak was grabbing him around the remains of his armor's under-weave. Then, there was the uncomfortable sensation of being dragged over the ground, to the edge of the Dark Eco filled ravine. Keira and Daxter followed, each of them watching, knowing what was about to happen.

It was strangely ironic, in a way.

The dark elf paused at the edge, and held Errol down so he could see the veritable river of the toxic substance flowing through the canyon, about two hundred feet down.

"I want you to know, Errol," the Ascended Channeler holding him said, "that I'm not doing this out of vengeance for myself." He then picked the commander up, and stared into his eyes one final time. "I just think, that there's going to be a hundred and eighty odd souls resting a little more peacefully now."

The next thing he knew, the air was whistling through his ears, and the darkness below coming ever closer to him. He felt a scream rising in his throat, but he choked it back with an inward growl, he would not give Jak the pleasure of hearing that noise from him again.

The next instant, he impacted upon the surface for a split second, before he disappeared beneath it, and felt the darkness start to seep in, giving him a whole new definition of the word pain.

Watching from up above, Keira let out a sigh. This battle was finally over, in a rather fitting manner, and that pretty much just left Praxis to be dealt with. That in and of itself was something of a mystery as well, as before they had left, they had heard Torn making some mention to the K.G. pulling back to palace compound. Why, none of them were sure, as they had abandoned several defensible locations in the process, something that made little tactical sense. However, nobody was really complaining.

"You okay, Dax?" Jak inquired, staring down at his diminutive friend, and calling Keira back to reality.

"No, I'm not!" the Ottsel replied, crossing his arms over his chest. "You have no idea what Errol did to me!"

"I don't see any signs of abuse." Keira remarked, raising an eyebrow at the rodent.

"Not any physical ones." Daxter retorted, holding up a finger. "That psycho kept me in his room the whole time."

"And that's bad how?" the aqua haired elf said.

"Because Errol listened to opera music virtually the whole freaking time he was in there!" Daxter exclaimed hopping up and down. "He scarred me for life! Life I tell you!"

Jak and Keira exchanged a glance, and both of them promptly broke out in laughter, causing Daxter to fume.

"Come on, little guy," Jak said, "let's get back to the base, Tess has been going out of her mind ever since you got caught."

"She has?" Daxter inquired, a silly, love struck grin making its way over his furry visage.

"Yep." Keira confirmed. "She was crying half the time, ready to storm K.G. central and take you back the rest."

"I'll have to make it up to her." Daxter said, mostly to himself, and rubbing his hands together in a way that meant the other two distinctly did not want to know what he was thinking of.

"There is one thing bugging me, though…" Jak said, as they walked back towards their zoomers, getting him a look from Daxter, while Keira seemed to already know what he was talking about.

"Who was our mysterious little sharpshooter friend?" she finished for him.

On cue, there was the sound of a speeder bike being kick started, and a crimson police cycle sped past them, the driver, his face and head now exposed, nodding to them as he headed back to Haven.

All three of them stood in place, blinking as they stared at the retreating vehicle, its color irrefutable evidence of the rider's allegiance.

"Was that…" Daxter began.

"Yep." Jak and Keira answered.

'_**As you elves would say, the plot thickens.' **_

**

* * *

**

"So," Praxis said, rubbing his temple as he turned away from now Commander Toshiro, "it's finished, then."

"Yes, Sir." the officer responded, still dressed in his black scouting gear. "The renegade came out on top after the prisoner's escort was neutralized. Though I might add that the dark elf had a similar idea himself, as I wasn't the only sniper there."

"So much the better." Praxis said, before dismissing the elite.

As Toshiro left, he turned his attention back to a map of the city, one that outlined its various defensive strongholds and key locations. The Baron then scratched his chin, trying to figure out where the enemy would most likely attack. He knew they were coming, but as always, the question was: from where? The shield wall that extended around the city and up over it was strong enough to deflect even a prolonged bombardment, and he praised Mar for having the brains to construct it. Though he did regret that the tech was so complicated that expanding it had proved to be a tricky thing, which had been one of reasons that Dead Town had fallen so easily.

Still, Praxis would have liked to think that he had learned something from that encounter, and this time, he vowed that he would not lose. Haven City could not afford another such catastrophe.

He also prayed that a certain weapon he had created would be up to the challenge as well. So much would depend upon him, whether he knew it or not.

* * *

Two more days passed, and the key members of the Underground were gathered at Keira's old place, as there was something that the mechanic wanted to show them.

She was simply grateful that Jak's antics at the Fortress had basically caused everyone to forget about the contraption, as who knew what could have happened if the K.G. had started tampering with it.

"Okay, here's what I've been working on for the past three years." She said, grabbing a hold of that mysterious green curtain, before abruptly turning back around to look at a certain furry rodent. "Daxter, no laughing!"

"But I like to laugh." the Ottsel said, before crossing his arms and pouting, causing Tess to giggle and pick him up, where she promptly began to scratch him behind his ears.

Keira simply rolled her eyes, before yanking the curtain aside, revealing a strange looking contraption. Torn, Ashelin, Tess and the Shadow exchanged confused looks, while Jak and Daxter seemed stunned.

It was the Rift Rider that had stranded them in this war torn abyss.

"I've been trying to put it back together with spare parts that I've scrounged up." The aqua haired elf said as she locked eyes with Jak.

The Ascended Channeler was silent as he walked forward, and ran his hands over the strange machine, looking down to the control panel. Everything there was exactly as he remembered it, and for several seconds he simply stared at the thing in wonder, his mind trying to digest it all.

"You built this all," he said eventually, looking over at the holder of his heart, "from memory?"

"What can I say," Keira replied with a shrug, "I was blessed with a near photographic one."

"That's my girl." Samos said, beaming with pride.

"However," his adoptive daughter said, a frown upon her face, "I'm still missing one piece."

"It figures." Daxter responded with a groan.

"What is it that you're missing?" Ashelin inquired, entering the conversation.

"An energy gem called the 'Heart of Mar.'" the tech head replied, rubbing her forehead. "I've searched every reference book I can think of, but none of them say where it could be."

There was a brief silence, where everyone remained silent.

"I know where it is." Jak said, his voice cold. "Krew has it."

Everyone suddenly looked up at him, silently telling him to proceed.

"Krew sent me and Sig down on a mission in the sewers to find that old statue of Mar that was stolen a while back, it's where I met Jynx." the dark elf explained. "We fought our way to it and as luck would have it, the gem was inside of the thing."

"Would it look sort of like a ruby, and be about the size of your fist?" Tess asked abruptly.

"Yeah." Jak and Keira said at the same time.

"So that's what that thing was." the blond haired elf muttered. "And there I was thinking Krew had suddenly taken a liking to jewelry."

"It's in his stash?" Jak asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Not anymore," Tess said with a shake of her head. "I think he's carrying it on his person now."

"I'll just have to 'convince' him to give it up." the dark elf said with a smirk.

However, before anything else could be said, the Shadow suddenly dropped to his knees, clutching his head as if in pain. In an instant, Torn and Ashelin were at his side, asking him if everything was alright. There response was a groan, and after a few seconds, the younger Sage finally opened his eyes back up.

Samos was standing over him, a serious expression upon his weathered face.

"It was a vision." He said to the two tattooed elves by the resistance leader's side, before looking down at his younger counterpart. "What did you see?"

"I saw," the Shadow panted, "what Praxis is planning to do with the Precursor Stone." He then took a moment to recompose himself, before standing back up. "He's planning on smashing it open!"

"Anyone have a clue what that would do?" Keira asked, staring around, and getting negative nods and shrugs in return.

"I know someone who might." Torn said, before grabbing his comm. unit from off of his belt and pressing a few buttons on it.

A couple of seconds later came the slightly nasal voice of a certain coke bottle glasses wearing informant.

"Whadda want now, Torn?" Vin grumbled, irritated about something. "I'm kind of busy here!"

"Stow it, Vin." Torn said with a growl. "Look, you know all about theoretical physics and what not, right? And about how they could pertain to ancient artifacts from Mar's era?"

"Yeah, I did my doctorate on it, why?" the technician inquired.

"You also know about the legend of the Precursor Stone?" the commander asked..

"Who in this city doesn't?" Vin shot back, ire clearly present in his voice. "Now where are you going in this, I'm getting some fluctuations in the Eco Grid that are making me uneasy."

"Fine, I'll make it fast." Torn groaned. "What would happen if it were to be, say, violently cracked open?"

There was a few seconds pause, which was followed by something that seemed to be a strange hybrid of a whimper, a groan, and a sigh coming from the engineer's end of the line.

"Great, just great!" Vin said, his voice shaky. "As if I don't have enough problems on my hands, you give me one more thing to worry about, thank you very much!"

"Would you quit yammering and simply tell us what would happen?" Torn snarled, glaring at the comm. unit.

"Okay, okay," Vin said in a meek tone, "if I remember correctly, if that thing were to be cracked open like that, the result would be a crater about three or four hundred miles wide."

There was a pregnant silence, in which everyone's eyes became about the size of a dinner plate, which was quickly followed by several loud gulps.

"Yeah, my sentiments exactly." Vin said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go throw up, bye bye."

With that he hung up, and for several seconds, everyone just stared around at each other, wondering what to do. Finally, Keira broke the silence.

"How much force would you need to do something like that to the Stone?" she asked, instinctively looking over to her adoptive father.

"A lot." The old Sage replied, suddenly scratching his long white beard. "You need some sort of implosion type weapon that would be capable of putting millions of pounds per square inch of pressure onto it."

"Well," Torn said, leaning back against the garage wall, "I know that the military had been experimenting with weapons like that. But for pressure like that, the thing would have to be gods awfully huge." He muttered, before shaking his head, "There would be no way Praxis could be making something like that inside of Haven and we not know about it."

Abruptly Ashelin frowned, and looked down at the garage floor, the gears of her mind all but visibly whirring. Jak, ever the observant one, was quick to pick up on this.

"Something wrong, Ashelin?" he asked, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow.

"I just remembered something." The daughter of Praxis said slowly. "Right before my old man made his move for the Precursor Stone, he suddenly diverted a large amount of funding and manpower to an old abandoned research station about twenty five clicks southeast of the city."

"A sound tactical move." Samos said abruptly. "It's out of the way, which would decrease the odds of Metal Heads or something else discovering it. Not to mention the fact that it would also mean no damage to the city in the event of something going wrong." He suddenly stared around at the group, his wisdom filled gaze piercing everyone. "I would suggest that we investigate this facility before anything else."

"And how exactly to you propose that we do that, Grandpa Green?" Daxter asked, taking interest in the conversation for the first time. "Just waltz on up and ring the doorbell?"

"You know," Jak said before Samos could unleash his own sharp tongue upon the Ottsel, "that just might work." He smiled grimly at the confused looks that he received, and simply held up his hands, dark lightning suddenly crackling between them. "I think they might open up for me."

**

* * *

**

Meanwhile, out near the ruins of the strip mining operation, a broken and slightly cooked figure crawled along the ground.

The Dark Eco still burned in him, the pain nearly driving him mad. However, he had noticed, strangely enough, that the toxic substance hadn't killed him, nor had it mangled him beyond recognition or turned him into some sort of horrendous mutant. It was a puzzling thing that one small portion of his mind attempted to figure out, while the rest of it simply attempted to concentrate on getting out of this bleak place alive.

He'd lost track of how long he'd spent crawling like this, but he figured that it had to be for some days at least. His right hand was brutally scraped and lacerated from where sharp rocks had gouged it, and the rest of his body was much the same.

It had also not escaped his attention that his blood was now tainted a blackish purple.

His throat was dry and screamed for water, while a gnawing pain in his stomach made him aware of the fact that it had been some time since he'd gotten nourishment.

But those were mere annoyances compared with the agony that surged through his veins.

It was at that moment in time, that Errol would have done anything to make the burning stop, to ride himself of the poison running through his systems.

But still, he did not stop, he would not give up! He had to live, he had to find a way to gain vengeance upon Jak, and upon Keira. Somehow, in some way, he would find a way to survive and to return to Haven, where he would make them beg for death. Oh yes, the tortures he had inflicted upon Jak in prison would seem merciful compared to what he would do.

And he'd make that miserable little tech head suffer just as much.

Those thoughts lent him clarity, and he continued to crawl along, trying to find some place in this hell accursed canyon that was sloped enough for him to crawl out.

For several more hours he continued on like this, until at last, exhaustion claimed him to the point where even the pain faded, and he fell into a fitful slumber.

* * *

How long he lay upon the ground like, sleeping, he would never know. However, something caused him to return the realm of the living, and he choked back a gasp of pain. He looked up, and found it to be night, and a moonless one at that. However, there was something else that grabbed his attention, something that did manage to steal away his breath.

Coming down from the sky, was some sort of dark shadow that was blotting out the twinkling stars. It became obvious to him after a few seconds that it was a ship, but clearly it was not one made by elven hands. For one thing, it was sleek and smooth, not like the flying boxes that the K.G. transport ships were, and the lack of bristling laser turrets ruled out a Hellcat of some sort.

It was also far too quiet, making even less noise than most speeder bikes did, even though it was easily three times the size of an elven drop ship.

It suddenly descended into the canyon, and came to a halt about five hundred feet away. Even from this distance, Errol saw the dark light open up from its belly, and the next thing that he knew, there were a pair of bright flashes, and two…things…both clad in bluish armor, appeared upon the ground.

It surprised him that he was able to see that far with this kind of light, or more appropriately, the lack thereof, almost as if his eyesight had improved since Jak had tossed him into the Dark Eco.

However, that was a mere side thought, as most of his attention was focused, as discreetly as possible, as he lacked anything to defend himself with even if he had been able to focus past the pain, on these strange beings.

They moved about upon their triple jointed legs with a strange grace, a superhuman fluidity and ease that he had only seen in one person before: Jak. He saw the pair spread out, both of them clutching some kind of staff, and their helmeted visages darted back and forth as they walked. After a few seconds, Errol realized exactly what they were doing: those were textbook maneuvers for setting up a perimeter.

They continued looking and scanning about for about another half of a minute, before they relayed some sort of message back to their transport. At least, this was what the K.G. commander thought they were doing, as there were several more flashes an instant later.

The first one he saw was again clad in armor, except that it was green. It had a thin build, thinner even than the two blue things currently gazing his direction with their…weapons…held at ready.

The second one, which appeared immediately after that one, was clad in red…and built like a tank. It advanced forward ahead of the green one, and he noted that it lacked the grace of its two blue comrades. This was not to say it was clumsy or anything, it just seemed to lumber about more than its fellows. However, it looked as if it would have been capable of snapping any of those other three in half.

As they drew closer, he could make out more about them. The two blue ones, for example, had armor that appeared almost form fitting, as did the green one, while the red armored creature was obviously clad in a much heavier version, and it had some strange horn like protrusions that came off of the helmet that reminded him almost of a samurai in a way. He also noted that the crimson one had two wickedly serrated blades attached to each of its forearms, though they looked as if they were 'drawn back' for right now. The staffs of the blue one also had similar devices on each end, though they were not quite as large. What was also astounding was their height. Each one of these things looked as if they were about eight feet tall, with the red one being about half a head higher than that.

When they were about a hundred and fifty feet away, another flash came from where the strange ship hovered, and this time, a being clad in white armor appeared. This one, Errol noted, did not touch down upon the ground, but rather, hovered a few inches off of the earth, before it angled itself forward, and jetted towards its comrades.

That white one, something about the way it carried itself, and its armor, which had some bizarre symbols on it, and horns similar to those of the red one, made Errol realize that this one was the head honcho of this little group. He also did not miss the long sword type weapon attached to the right forearm, which he figured to be about four feet when extended, as it was facing backwards for some reason.

They continued forward, until at last they reached him.

He looked up into their black, emotionless visors, and they stared down at him, their dreadlocks spilling down over their shoulders.

What a pathetic sight he must have looked to them, whatever they were.

Suddenly, the green one got down on his knees, and extended his palms out towards the K.G. commander. There was a flash, and fairly decent amount of Green Eco came from its hands. However, rather than healing Errol, it just floated around him, doing absolutely nothing. After several seconds, the creature stood back up, shaking its head. It then turned towards the white armored one, before speaking, most surprisingly, in elven tongue.

"I'm sorry, Excellency, but I cannot heal him, his body has already assimilated too much Dark Eco." It said, its voice masculine.

"If that's the case," said the red one, its voice revealing it to be a female, "why hasn't his body begun to simply heal itself?"

Both of them looked to the white one, who slowly nodded its head, as if realizing why.

"He must have taken too much in at once, and his body wasn't prepared to handle it." It, or rather, he, said. "We have to hurry, it's a miracle that he's managed to survive this long." he muttered, before turning to the red one. "Nira, take him and get him to the stasis pod on the shuttle, it'll do until we can get him to the Day Star, and we're going to need him if we are to be able to complete Gaia's reformation, and defeat our 'brethren' once and for all."

"As you will it, Executor Kerrog." the crimson warrior responded, before bending down and taking Errol into her arms.

The procession then made its way back to the shuttle in a rather hasty manner. There was a flash of light, and a distinct feeling of movement in his gut, rather like what happened when a roller coaster made that first big plunge. What happened after that, Errol could not recall later.

* * *

Meanwhile, hidden out of sight, the Precursor Stone suddenly turned a solid black. It stayed that way for a single instant, before it reverted back to normal.

* * *

&

* * *

(Looks about nervously, and hastily erects a barrier spell)

Okay, let me state for the record that the Precursors are still what they are in Jak 3, what you observed here were their various different 'Combat Forms.' And to answer another question before it is asked, their armors are color coded, meaning that Kerrog is the leader of the Fallen Precursors, and yes, he is a LIGHT Eco user.

Also, the 'horns' are similar in nature to the ones that Tarath has, for a better description of them, see chapter eight.

Now, I have realized this week, that my little brother has somehow managed to misplace our copy of Jak 3, so if anyone knows of a place where I could find the game script and/or a general mission guide through the game, as I need to start nailing more and more ideas for the sequel.

Along those lines, if anyone has any ideas that they would like to see in the Jak 3 sequel, please let me know, as I am going to need all the help that I can get.

Also, in the next chapter, the vulcan gun will finally make its debut, and I assure you, it will actually be a Vulcan Cannon, rather than the over glorified machine gun that it was in the game. (anyone who's seen the very first Predator movie should starting thinking 'Old Painless' and you will get a good visual idea.)

That said, please let me know what you thought of this chapter, be it in the form of advice or constructive criticism, and ideas will result in me worshiping you.

Now, I hope that you all have a very good day, and now I will begin running from anyone who is currently trying to kill me.


	29. The Drek Hits the Fan

Good day to you all, and I hope you are having a lovely time.

First off, I want to announce in advance that I am heading back to school on Monday, and thus, Saturdays will be my weekly update day for the remaining five or so chapters that will make up this story, not including this one. I hope to have two for the battle for Haven City, one for Jak heading out to the nest, and, my brain and divine inspiration willing, a fifteen (or maybe more) page showdown between Jak and the Metal Head Leader. And of course, the epilogue. After that, I'm going to be trying to place the sequel together...though I have yet to come up with a title for it.

At any rate, to those of you who were so very kind and left me a review...

**EyesLikeSilk**- Hehe, thanks, I hope you enjoy the rest of the deviations I took, and that the story proves worth your while. (bows)

**Philoworm- **Thank, you, for providing the ideas for me to use. (bows) And don't worry, I shall do my best to keep my updates to about one week, and I shall try to keep the fighting as top notch as I can. Unfortunately, I didn't get the website address that you left, automatically removes em, so you have to put spaces between the words and whatnot to fool it. If it's not too much trouble could you tell me what it was again?

**Xeno-Freak- **Anubis? Where? (Looks about frantically, raising multiple protection spells at the same time). Oh Dear God! I hated facing that guy (shudders), not to mention that its runner needed some serious help (Nohman practically makes Errol look like a clam and peaceful Buddhist Monk) Speaking of which, feel free to go ahead and use in a dark type form as opposed to a mechanical one, I don't think anyone would mind. I mean, look at how many fics there are in the FF7 category about Sephiroth coming back and redeeming himself? And about the Fallen Precursors...ummm...errr, well, as far as your remark about Jak and co. going up against six or seven of them, that was simply a rescue party to bail Errol out, their real numbers lie closer to six or seven _thousand_ (and Jak is actually superior to one of them, for reasons that will be explained by Kor), and the final showdown in the Jak 3 story will be a Pelinor Fields style confrontation between these Fallen guys and their Precursor brethren, with many creators and explosions abounding. If you like, I could e-mail you a list of what each Precursor 'unit' can do and what they have at their disposal.

**animedragongirl- **Actually, I live in the panhandle of the state, we're bigger on peanuts up here in this region. And don't feel so bad about missing mistakes, to err is human, after all, and it makes life a little more exciting. I'm also glad to hear that you are drawing again, and I hope that you get a new scanner soon, I also just joined up with deviant art myself, So I'll know the next time that you get a drawing up .

**Farr2rich- **Nonsense, your writing is fine, and I am looking forward to reading about the next temple, plus its very good back-story for me, seeing as how I never managed to get a hold of the first game. Never got those websites though, the things programmed to get rid of em for some reason, so could you give it to me again, but put spaces in the address this time, it'll fool the formatter that way. And don't worry about Errol, he'll be dead once all is said and done, though I cannot decide whether it shall be Jak/Kage who kill him or Kei...(slaps hand over mouth). At any rate, expect to see more butt kicking, because form this chapter onwards, its pretty much going to be straight up fighting till the epilogue.

**Dark-Eco Psycho- **Thanks, I'm glad that you thought Kage's debut in his true form was bloody enough. (grins and bows)

**MariaShadow- **I am happy to hear that you enjoyed watching Errol get the crap shocked out of him, though once agian, the whole throwing the guy off the cliff thing turns out to be the once in a million years kind of deal as far as him acutally surviving his little swim. Ahh well, he'll get waxed in the end of the next story.

**Lunatic Pandora1-** Yep, Errol is an Ascended Channeler, just like Jak, of all the rotten luck. And I have you to thank for his 'demon form' for which I am grateful beyond words. But, I am afraid DMC3 is the only one that I've played, so I have no clue what the Death Scythe is, aside from the fact that it was the ultimate weapon of Magus from Chrono Trigger. Also, Jak has one more Dark Gift that he ahs yet to reveal, while Kage has about three, not to mention a few things that he can do with Kitetsu as well. Thanks again, and I hope that you enjoy this chapter as well.

**SRHumphrey727- **Got that e-mail, thanks. And yep, the Vulcan makes its début here, curtosy of a certain Wastelander, hope that you like it.

**Evil Manic- **Glad to see that you are still reading this story, and yes, Praxis is finally coming to his senses, though he is still going to buy the farm before all is said and done. However, this time he's going to die a much more 'noble' death. Heck, maybe if I'm lucky, I'll even get someone to feel sorry for him. I'd shoot for crying upon reading of his demise, but that would probably require nothing short of a miracle. Hope you like it, and please let me know if you get any more ideas, as I've never played any of the R&C games.

**Dark priestess666- **You flatter me with your praise. (blushes). As for the ending of the third game, it did upset allot of people, myself included. Even though I am a JxK fan, I might have bought into the JxA deal if they had built up to it, if you know what I mean, but it looked more like it was just something to please the fanboys that was slapped in at the last moment the way they had it. But, Keira will be playing a MUCH larger role in my sequel, (you might have picked up a few of the hints I've been dropping in the story and in my A/N). Hope you like this chapter as much as you have the others.

**DarkStarPhoenix- **Yep, Errol is basically what Jak is, and exactly what the Channelers are will be explained, in a manner that will probably make many people start to pity them... I know what you mean about the pairings fiasco in number three as well, and I really don't think that Ashelin would just turn her back on Torn like that. (For God's sake, he sold out the whole freaking Underground movement to save her!) Also, if you would like to know more about the Precursors/Fallen Ones (basically my term for the Ancient bad guys, since they aren't just dark users) just let me know and I'll email ya. Hope you like this part of the tale, and please let me know what you think. (bows)

**StarlaFoxFire- **Thanks for the compliment. Unfortunately, you are right, not all of the stuff out here is great, but there are a few gems. Check out Lizzy-Rebels stuff, or Visonary's, they're really good.

**k-child- **Rest assured, Keira will play a major league role in the sequel, as I shall make her pivotal to the plot even though N.D suffered from a bout of insanity and threw her into the background.

To those who read, but did not review, I hope that this has proven itself to be worthy of your time, and that you continue to enjoy what my demented mind manages to conjure up.

Lawyers: you know the drill, I own nothing but my OCs

Also I would like to encourage everyone to go and read Jak and Daxter: Dark War by Cyrex. It is in a word, Awesome, and would make an excellent plot for a fourth game, if it were action rather than racing oriented.

That said, here is Chapter Twenty Nine, may you enjoy it.

Note, Chapter has been edited since posting, as my hotmail finally allowed animedragongirl's corrections to get through (sends Hotmail a death glare).

* * *

&

* * *

The Drek Hits the Fan

The dark elf extended his hand, and the ever familiar lightning surged forth once again. Its target: the repulsor lifts for Krew's little hover craft. It hit, but the crime boss seemed to have taken the liberty of making them out of sturdier materials this time around, as they held up once again.

He had driven up to the facility in broad daylight and the K.G. footmen on exterior sentry duty had taken one good look at him and then run for their lives, barricading themselves behind the door. However, a pair of simultaneous dark bombs had taken care of that little obstacle, and sent the crimson armored warriors retreating further into the recesses of the facility.

Jak paid them no mind, simply walking by them as their knees shook with fear at his proximity to them. Only the combat droids stationed there put up anything even vaguely resembling some form of defense. They had promptly been cut down or fragged with Dark Eco, and he'd walked upon their smoldering remains like a conqueror upon a field of total victory.

Eventually, he reached the top of the place, and found, hovering around a gigantic sphere, Krew. Both the Ascended Channeler and his furry companion had been surprised to learn that the crime boss had been personally overseeing the final stages of the construction of a weapon he designed. The proclaimed 'peircer bomb' which would supposedly have the power to crack open the Precursor Stone, effectively taking out the Nest along with Haven City and everyone else.

He also ranted and raved about his love of weapons to the point where both the dark elf and Daxter had wondered if the Goodyear Blimp wasn't in need of serious psychological help. On the bright side of things, him being here would save Jak the trouble of having to hunt him down to get the Heart of Mar.

Unfortunately, aside from his self indulgent monologue-like ranting, Krew seemed less than pleased to see the two of them, and had become downright infuriated when Jak had demanded that he cough up the energy gem. He had then pressed a button on one of his hover lift's arm rests, and revealed that he had a few on board weapons concealed within the thing.

However, once again, elven technology had proven itself to be inferior to innate Channeling skills, and the fight, if it could even be called that, was just about over.

Krew came zooming in one last time, every weapon he had blazing. Almost lazily, the Ascended Channeler swatted the bolts away, and sidestepped the charge, sending another burst of lighting after Jabba the Hutt's reincarnation. Most of it connected, but a small amount of it surged over the gigantic bomb instead.

However, the amount that hit Jak's foe would prove to be enough, even if the elf was scolding hisself for missing a target so large. There was a flash, and Krew once again found himself devoid of his means of transportation, and on a one-way trip to the ground. Not surprisingly, he hit the metal rather hard, and groaned in pain as Jak and Daxter slowly walked up to them, a cold expression upon the face of the dark elf, while his smaller compatriot had a triumphant smirk upon his.

The overweight crime lord, dazed he was, was powerless to stop the Ascended Channeler from relieving him of the Heart of Mar. Smiling to himself as he slid it into one of the pockets of his coat, and he stood back up, silently congratulating himself on a job well done.

Apparently realizing that his worse dreams were coming true, in that someone was actually stealing from him, Krew snapped back to reality pretty quickly. He struggled, causing his bulk to jiggle in a way that even Jak's inner demon turned a faint shade of green at the sight, and both elf and Ottsel were quick to avert their eyes from the spectacle.

"You think you've won, have you?" Krew snarled as they turned their backs to him, a rather sinister tone to his voice.

"Looks like it from where I'm standing." Jak said, looking back over his shoulder with a crooked grin, which faded slightly as the rooftop rumbled faintly, and electricity arced over the piercer bomb.

"You may win this battle, but I can guarantee that Haven City is going to lose its little war!" Krew growled defiantly, his beady little eye radiating anger, as it looked up at his beloved creation. "I sold you all out."

Jak, now very much worried about what the blob was talking about, was going to ask what he meant, and was prepared to take some rather extreme measures to loosen his tongue if need be. However, before he could inquire further, more electricity arced over the weapon above their heads, and with a curse, Jak realized that he had somehow managed to activate the thing.

Praise the heavens that the Precursor Stone wasn't in it yet.

"Um, Jak," Daxter said, pointing up at the now obviously ready to blow device, "I think we need to be anywhere but here right about now!"

His larger compatriot remained silent, but merely scooped the furry rodent up, and made a dash for the edge of the roof-top at top speed. Running full tilt like this, he reached the edge about a second and a half later, and promptly threw himself over the edge.

Another tick of the second hand passed, and, a familiar black orb surrounded the dark elf as Kage came to the forefront of things. Daxter, once more screaming, felt the fingernails holding him suddenly become talons, and the feeling of falling faded as the oni spread its wings, pumping them furiously in a bid to get away from the explosion.

Watching them escape, Krew sighed suddenly, and looked around at what was quickly going to be his crematorium.

"Oh well." he muttered aloud, surprisingly calm considering his doom was imminent.

A second later, his world went white.

* * *

"So, Sir Lard-a-Lot is no more?" Keira asked as she held the Heart of Mar as if it was the most priceless thing in existence.

"Yep," Daxter replied, looking up for a moment from his game of 'Wack a Metal-Head,' "now he's nothing more than a bad memory."

Jak, his back to them, remained silent, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as Krew's last words haunted him. Kage had pointed out that the obese crime boss might have been bluffing, but for some reason, the dark elf didn't think so, that it wouldn't have made sense for him to do such a thing.

Abruptly, something put him on edge, and he cocked his ears as he tried to figure out what it was. He could hear Daxter whooping, and a tell tale ding from the arcade game as he beat the high score, as well as Tess congratulating him.

"You know, if any real Metal Heads were to show up…" the Ottsel began cockily, before a growling noise suddenly put a halt to his boasting.

That was what Jak had heard, the clack of a talon against the floor.

Whirling around, he saw a pair of Metal Head Drones, their teeth bared in a snarl as they prepared to pounce upon the hapless rodent. As Daxter yelped and leapt backwards in an attempt to put some distance between them and himself, Jak threw out his left hand. An instant later, there was a pulsing sound and a trio of the small 'dark bolts' flew from his hand, crashing into the closer of the two, killing it before it even had a chance to cry out. Its comrade turned, only to receive a similar treatment right in the face.

"Yikes, where's Sig when you need him?" Daxter shouted, leaping up into Tess' arms.

"Sig?" the blond haired elf said as she held the rodent close. "I think Krew sent him on an assignment, something about using some key in the old Underport."

Jak blinked abruptly, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place.

"Fierfek!" he swore, slapping his forehead, and storming towards the door of the Hip Hog.

It hissed open and what he saw chilled him to the core.

The Hora-quan where everywhere, popping up out of sewer gratings and the like, Grunts and Drones running about while Crab Heads directed everything. Intermingled among them were the shimmering energy shields of Centurions, and Jak could have sworn that his enhanced eyesight even picked out a couple of Rams as well.

"Holy…" was all he could say as Keira joined him, her eyes practically doubling in size as she stared about.

After a single stunned second, the aqua haired elf reached down to her waist and grabbed a comm., hastily pulling it out and pressing a few buttons on it.

"What?" came the harsh voice of Torn from the other end of the line, and judging by the anger and frustration in his voice, he seemed to be preoccupied with something.

"Torn, we've got a problem!" Keira said, looking out upon the sea of Metal Heads running amok.

"If it's about the damn Metal Heads, then I already know!" the Revenant shouted back. "They're popping up all over the city, and Jynx and I are suiting up now!"

With that the line went dead, and the dark elf and mechanic exchanged a glance.

"Come on, Dax," Jak said, looking over to his compatriot, "we've got a buddy to bail out."

No sooner did the words leave his mouth, and Keira and Tess looked at each other, and the two of them dashed towards the back of the Hip Hog, Keira stopping when she reached her back pack, while her blond haired friend kept going until she was out of sight.

"Kier," Jak asked, calling her by nickname, "what are you doing?"

"Sig's my friend too, Jak," she growled, yanking out her helmet and chest protection, "and if you think for one second I'm going to leave him to become metal meat, then you've got another thing coming!" she snarled at him, a defiant glare shining in her eyes.

The dark elf opened his mouth, but then he abruptly shut it, noting that Tess came back at that time, her arms full of combat gear as well.

'**_You are not going to attempt to stop them from accompanying us?' _**Kage inquired, somewhat confused about the situation. **_'This rescue attempt will be hazardous to say the least.' _**

'_Kage,' _Jak told his inner demon, _'one thing you have yet to learn about females is this: when they get that look in their eye, it becomes impossible for us men to win the argument, and trying to do so is only prolonging the inevitable.' _

'**_I see.' _**the winged demon replied, before falling silent.

Once everyone was ready, they moved towards the door of the saloon. There was a hissing sound as Jak drew Kitetsu, and the dark katana shed an eerie purple light around as they dashed out into the open, and right into the gates of Hell.

Instantly, their freakish adversaries began to take notice of them, and several Grunts charged forward. However, Tess leveled her assault rifle quickly, while Keira sighted a few up as well. There was a staccato cracking as gunfire filled the evening air, and several fell from the two elves' expertly placed shots. Those that did survive were sent into oblivion courtesy of a dark bomb that exploded in their midst.

"Which way is it to the Underport?" Jak called back over his shoulder as he threw the blade of Mar end over end into a Drone, before summoning the sword back after it accomplished its task.

"This way!" Keira said, gesturing for the others to follow her.

They were quick in doing so. After all, if there were this many Metal Heads on the surface, then one could only begin to wonder how many were still trying to get up topside. And though Sig was tough, even he could only stand up to so many of these things.

Keira was just grateful that he'd been willing to take her latest toy out on a field test. That little gizmo, if anything, might just have been able to keep him alive long enough for them to get down to where he was.

* * *

About an hour, several hard contacts, approximately seven score Hora-quan, and more explicative than they'd cared to have kept track of later, they at last reached their target.

Not surprisingly, they first got the general position of the Wastelander by the loud swearing and they strange high pitched whirring noise that drifted through the various tunnels of the ancient catacombs they were in.

Peering around a corner, Jak saw him, apparently alone, with his back turned to their location and wearing an odd, grayish backpack. The burly enforcer was also daring the Metal Heads to come out and play, something that did not surprise him in the least. And so, with a sigh of relief, he stepped from around the corner, and got his attention.

"Hey, big guy." He said loud enough for the armored elf to hear him.

Unfortunately, all that did was cause Sig to whirl around and level his weapon at the dark elf, which was some sort of multi-barreled cannon that was strapped the upper portions of his right arm, and had some sort of belt like device connecting it with the backpack. Realizing the potential implications of this almost instantly, Jak took action just as the Wastelander reflexively pulled the trigger. A loud 'crack' once again filled the air as Jak teleported closer to the armored elf, and made certain that he was not anywhere near where that strange weapon of his was pointed, as the half of a second that he'd had the trigger depressed had sent a flurry of bolts into the far wall.

'**_Someone appears to be a little trigger happy.' _**Kage remarked in observing the obvious.

"Cherry, didn't I tell you to never sneak up on me when I'm jittery?" Sig growled, apparently not caring a wit that Jak had technically just violated the laws of physics.

"Well, excuse us for caring about your health, borg boy." Daxter remarked snidely as he came around with Keira and Tess.

"Good to see you're still in one piece, Sig." the mechanic said, relief visible in her voice.

"Mostly due to this little baby." the large Wastelander replied, patting the disgustingly huge gun fondly, and Jak also noticed his normal weapon, set to some kind of submachine gun mode, strapped to his left hip.

"You like it then?" the aqua haired elf inquired with a smirk.

"Well," Sig responded, taking a deep breath, "at first, I was swearing up a storm because this thing does weigh a ton. But I don't think that I'd be alive right now if it weren't for it. And let me tell you this, girl," Sig continued, staring her in the eyes, "right now I couldn't love you more if you were my own daughter."

"What happened down here?" Jak asked, not about to forget that Haven City was in the greatest danger it had ever been since its founding.

"Krew had me open some sort of door with that ruby key we found on Mar's statue," Sig said, venom in his words, "and when I did, Metal Heads started coming from everywhere, like they were waiting for me."

"Now I remember," Tess said, slapping her forehead, "some of the older history textbooks we had in school said that Mar had some sort of underground tunnel made in case the city ever needed to be evacuated, almost like an emergency exit."

"So Krew must have found it and decided to give its location away to those monsters." Keira snarled, taking the fact that Metal Heads were about to ravage her home yet again very much personally.

"Yeah," Sig muttered quietly, his one eye practically radiating anger, "and I can't wait to see him again."

"He's dead." Jak said, his voice surprisingly calm.

"Well, then he's lucky," the armored elf growled, "cause he would not want me to catch him alive!"

With that, Sig nodded to Jak, who took point alongside of him, as they knew the way back up a little better than he did at the moment.

Not surprisingly, it wasn't long before they ran into a group of Metal Heads attempting to reach the same destination. There were about twenty of the abominations all together, the majority of which were Grunts and Drones. However, there was a quartet of Centurions in the group, and of course, a Crab Head overseeing everything. The standoff was brief, decisive, and a clean victory for Jak and company, with the dark elf's Channeling powers tearing through a good number of them, while Keira and Tess sighted a couple of the shield carriers up with their assault rifles, dropping them with expertly placed shots.

However, other than Jak, Sig did most of the damage, including claiming the Crab Head to his list of kills. He leveled the weapon that Keira had given him, pulled the trigger, which was set into a handle that vaguely resembled a video game joystick, and the gun emitted a high pitched whirring sound before spitting out a stream of Blue Eco at the monsters in front of him.

The Hora-quan didn't even have time to react before the rounds, which were being emitted at such a high rate as to almost make them look like one continuous blast, literally ripped them apart. The Crab Head snarled and returned fire as its underlings were cut down. Sig's armor took the shots, however, and he shifted the gun over to where it was aiming at the Metal Head commander. The beast's eyes widened, and its armor held up for all of a microsecond, before the sheer number of Eco bolts tore through, practically disintegrating it.

The threat gone, Sig released his grip upon the trigger, and all eyes were promptly upon him.

"Whoa…" Daxter muttered, his gaze darting back and forth between the burly Wastelander and the dozen or so Metal Heads that he had quite literally mowed down.

"What is that thing?" Jak inquired abruptly, staring at the menacing looking gun.

"You remember those LAAGs that I built for the Underground assault craft?" Keira said, double checking her power pack at the same time. "Well, presenting, the vulcan, the 'mobile' infantry version of it."

"Infantry version?" the dark elf said, giving her a look.

"Yep," Keira responded, a small amount of pride in her voice, "capable of throwing out almost two thousand rounds a minute, that baby can chew through just about anything." She paused for a second, suddenly looking quite sheepish. "There is one problem though."

"What's that?" Daxter asked. "And for that matter, I want to know why we never get the cool guns!"

"Think about it, Chili Pepper," came Sig's baritone voice, cutting off the rodent's rant before it could even get started, "if this thing fires that fast, how quickly to you think it's going to run through its ammo?"

"Really, really fast?" Daxter answered, scratching his head.

"Exactly." Keira said, "and the only way I could get it to overcome that problem was to give it that enormous power pack." She gestured to the backpack that the Wastelander was wearing.

"Which I might add," Sig said, "weighs the better part of two hundred pounds!"

"Yeash," Tess responded with a shake of her head. "Your back's really going to hate you when you get old, Sig."

"And who says it ain't hating me now?" the armored elf responded with a groan.

"How much ammo do you have left, Sig?" Keira asked suddenly.

"About sixteen and a half thousand shots outta the original twenty five." the Wastelander answered, shifting about slightly as he did so.

"Good," the aqua haired elf muttered, "because these guys are running all over the city, and we're going to need the firepower."

"Then let's get moving." Jak said, Kitetsu hissing slightly and he deftly spun it. "Torn and the others sounded like they were in over their heads when we were heading down here."

No sooner did the words leave his mouth, than there came a faint rumbling that rapidly grew louder. The four elves and the Ottsel exchanged a glance, and Daxter muttered a panicky 'uh-oh,' right before a portion of the far wall was torn apart by some sort of gigantic Metal Head that Jak could never recall seeing before.

It looked as if it was nearly fifty feet long, and dozens of armored legs clattered against the stone floor. Its large eyes spotted them almost instantly, and it opened its maw, which was so large that it likely could have even swallowed Sig without much difficulty, and roared at them. The cry was great enough to cause the whole corridor to vibrate, and Daxter, whose own scream was drowned out, made a beeline for Jak's trench coat, hiding himself inside of one of the pockets.

"Holy drek," Sig said faintly, looking at the behemoth, "a Metapede."

"Sig," the dark elf hissed quietly as the thing apparently decided what to do about them, "you're the Metal Head hunter here, what do we do?"

"Three words, Cherry," the burly enforcer muttered, before turning around and sprinting off as fast as he could in the opposite direction, "run like hell!"

"No argument here!" Keira said, she and Tess quickly bolting off after the Wastelander.

Jak, not to be left out, pivoted about, and raced off as well, somewhat surprised he didn't leave a trail of flames behind him, so great was his speed.

Enraged at the thought of its prey escaping, the Metapede roared once again, and took off after them, its speed nightmarishly quick, considering its bulk.

'**_Why do we flee?' _**Kage asked suddenly, not fully understanding what was going on. **_'It is within my abilities to take such a creature.' _**

'_Yeah, I don't doubt that,' _Jak responded, still running as if his life depended upon it, _'but we're going to need to be as close to full strength as we can once we get to the surface.'_

'**_As you wish.' _**Kage growled in response, clearly not happy about retreating in such an ignoble manner.

* * *

They stopped at the end of the stone bridge, every one of them panting, and struggling to keep the blessed air in their lungs. Well, everyone except for Daxter, who had finally opted to stick his head out of the pocket that he'd been hiding in. They'd finally managed to lose the thing after Jak and used his powers to blast out a grating that had been in the floor, dropping them down to a lower level that the Metapede had apparently been unable to follow.

"Well," the dark elf gasped, looking over to Keira with a tired smile upon his face, "that was close."

"No, kidding," the mechanic replied, returning the grin.

"Well," Sig replied, "with that little bugger not bothering us any more, I think we need to get up topside and take the fight to the enemy." His face suddenly broke into a massive grin. "Why, who knows, maybe once we get done exterminating these scumbags, we might even be able to storm their nest." The grin widened. "And something tells me the head of their leader would make a mighty fine trophy!"

"Not a bad idea, Sig." Tess said, placing a hand upon one of his armored shoulder pauldrons, "But, I think we need to worry about getting out of here first."

"You're right," the Wastelander conceded, his smile still taking up his entire face, "but once we're outta here, they'd better watch out, 'cause there ain't a thing in this world gonna take us down!" he said, pointing the vulcan cannon skyward.

However, before anymore words could be exchanged amongst the small group, there came the sound of stone being split and torn asunder, and everyone looked up to behold the Metapede tearing its way out of the far wall to try for round two. Seeing its prey, it gave another roar and launched itself from its freshly made tunnel, once again moving far faster than one would have thought possible.

As luck would have it, it was headed right for Sig, its jaws snapping ominously as its momentum propelled it through the air.

Swearing, the Wastelander threw himself backwards in an instinctive attempt to save his life.

The monstrous Hor-quan came closer, its maw opened and its fangs extended…

…and clamped shut about six inches short from the armored elf as it hit the floor.

There was a sudden cracking noise as it quickly became evident that the stone bridge they had been on was not capable of supporting its massive bulk, and the structure collapsed as gravity claimed its next victim, the behemoth roaring as it plunged into the dark abyss below.

Sig stood at the very edge, his plated boots literally upon the edge of the threshold.

For a few moments, nobody moved, until at last, the grim humor that so often followed a close encounter with Death manifested itself.

"We-e-e-e-elll" Sig muttered, chuckling slightly, "now _that_ was a close one."

"Yeah," Keira said, looking down into the darkness of the pit they were over, "now, what do you people say we get out of here before anything else can go wrong?"

"That gets my vote!" Daxter exclaimed, while silently praying that the Metal Heads up above didn't have any more of those things in their ranks.

* * *

Once again, Baron Praxis stared down at Haven City, looking at the battlefield that it had become, and quite possibly, a soon to be slaughterhouse.

Never in all his years would he have imagined that the gods accursed Metal Heads would attack Haven from below, effectively bypassing the Shield Wall and about ninety five percent of the exterior defenses of the city.

He'd done what he could. K.G. units had been scrambled into drop ships, with the pilots being given orders to drop their men off and then head for the slums and residential sectors in a desperate bid to get the civilians out of harms way. Others had been hurriedly dropped off in the industrial section as they attempted to get Hellcat cruisers airborne while their brethren raced against the clock to get the Scorpion assault tanks out into the city.

All the while, desperate calls for air and armor support came in, as men were overwhelmed and ripped to pieces by the invaders.

So, it appeared as if Haven City was going to die on his watch…

A sudden surge of anger came over him. Haven would not die, not while he still drew breath! He would fight, and give his blood to defend his homeland. With his single eye practically burning in determination, he glanced over to the powered armor suit that he had in his room. He swiftly walked over, and began donning the protective gear.

It took him about ten minutes to get everything on and for the connectors to begin providing him with the augmented strength and speed that made him such a threat.

He looked over to his mirror, and saw his own scarred visage staring back at him. The words of his conscience came back to him, echoing through his mind.

_Monster…despot…murderer._

Unwillingly, his mind flashed back to that day, more than three years ago, when he'd crossed that threshold…

* * *

He stared around at the carnage. The Throne Room was a mess. Soldiers clad in blue and red armor lay where they had fallen, the lifeblood of comrades turned enemies pooling together until it looked as if the floor tiles where red instead of white.

Two bodies stood out among the fallen, both of them clad in gray, Katarn battle armor. Two of the remaining four Deltas lay here, another of which was pinned down in the eastern corridors. Praxis had seen the casualty estimates for the battle, and knew that they had been responsible for a decent number of them.

One, possessing green highlights upon his armor, lay upon his back, his rifle still clutched in his hands, his armor blackened and charred along the chest and helmet. This one, Ackerson if he remembered correctly, had been a heavy weapons expert, and had doubtless been responsible for the fuel rod cannon barrage that had wiped out the front lines of those to get this far. A couple of his soldiers that had managed to survive kept talking about they had shot and shot this particular soldier over again, and how the Delta had simply refused to die. Finally, he'd dropped, a round tearing through his armor and into his heart.

Even then, the gray armored warrior had refused to expire until after he'd emptied his battle rifle clip into his forces.

The other one, Hunter, had been a marksman, and he too had wreaked complete havoc among his troops. The soldier lay slumped against the far wall, the red streaks on his armor partially obscured by his many wounds. Praxis didn't say it, but he held a great deal of respect for those two, and their soon to be deceased comrade who was still putting up a stubborn fight if the radio chatter was to be any indicator.

How he hated having to destroy them all like this, to waste such proud soldiers in such a means. But, it had to be done, their loyalty to his sister was too great, and he knew he would have never been able to turn them to his side.

Speaking of which, he still had to deal with his sibling. This was the part of this operation that he'd been dreading. Why, oh why couldn't Alicia have simply stepped back and let him run things? Why did she always have to clash with him over citizen's rights when there were far more important things that needed to be done?

She stood before him, defiant and regal as ever, despite the fact that she knew what was going to happen to her. Blood dripped from her arm where she'd been shot, but not before she dropped a few of his own troops with a holdout blaster she'd hidden upon herself.

He drew his own sidearm, and aimed it at her, wishing with all of his heart that there was another way for this to end.

"Forgive me, Alicia." He said simply, his voice threatening to break at any moment.

She remained silent, her eyes strangely triumphant in a way. However, before he could contemplate what that could have meant, he heard a shout, and felt himself being knocked to the ground.

As he did so, there was a sharp crack, and something else hit the ground right next to him. It was a soldier, his visor pierced by a single well-placed shot. Looking over, Praxis saw that Hunter was not quite dead, and gripped a pistol in one had, while the other cradled his stomach. Quickly readjusting his aim, the mortally wounded Delta pulled the trigger…

And nothing happened.

Once more, the gray armored soldier tried to fire the weapon, and there was only a faint buzzing sound. The pistol's power pack was empty. His hand shaking, the marksman dropped the empty weapon, and slumped over to where he was lying prone on the ground. Even so, Errol walked over and kicked his body a few times to make certain he wasn't feigning death once again.

Praxis got back up, pausing just long enough to shut the eyes of the soldier who had just sacrificed his life, and once again pointed his gun at his sister.

An instant later it was over, the foul deed done.

He tossed his pistol aside as if it had suddenly turned into a venomous animal, and turned his back upon the scene, knowing he would break down if he saw Alicia lying like these dead soldiers.

"Well," came the voice of his captain, and out of the corner of his good eye, Praxis saw him give Hunter's corpse another kick, "seems as though these windup toys have finally lost their aura of invincibility."

"They fought well and bravely, Errol," Praxis said, his voice quiet, "do not forget that."

The captain frowned, but remained silent, and Praxis pulled another soldier aside from the cleanup duty that was taking place.

"Take my sister," he said, before swallowing and willing himself to continue, "and have her body prepared and buried within the royal family's tomb." He said, referring to the catacomb like area beneath the palace, which was not to be confused with the legendary resting place of Mar.

He'd also ordered for the Delta's to be cremated their remains placed within a special burial site on the palace grounds that had long ago been set aside for members of the elite squadrons.

But more than that, he remembered a strange sensation he'd had for along time afterward, as if there had been blood soaking his hands, yet there was none of the crimson liquid to be found.

_

* * *

_

The scarred elf growled and shook his head, snapping himself back to reality, but unable to rid himself of the memories of his actions.

Once again, the words of his conscience mockingly echoed within his head, and abruptly, something snapped.

"I will not…" he growled, suddenly gripping his titanium head plate, "die a tyrant!"

With a roar, he twisted and pulled, yanking the covering off, baring his war scars for the entire world to see. Snarling, he threw the plate away, where it clunked off in some corner of his room. He then reached down, and opened a small chest like box at the foot of the armor stand, from which he withdrew a simple, red helmet, an identical model to the one that he'd worn during the assault upon the Metal Head Nest.

No sooner had he finished strapping it on, than his door opened and Commander Toshiro stepped in.

"All units have been deployed to their stations, as per your orders, Sir." the marksman said with a sharp salute. If he was surprised at the sudden change of headgear that his superior was now sporting, he did not let it show.

"Good work, commander." Praxis said, "Now, round up my personal guard, and anyone else who you can find."

"Your pardon, Baron?" the man asked, not understanding.

"This is one fight where I need to be leading from the front lines." Praxis said, turning around to face his second in command. "Now get them mobilized and have them meet me by barrack oh five nine, there will be a couple of drop ships waiting for us there.

"By your command, Baron." the yellow armored officer said with another salute, before heading off to carry out his orders.

"And commander," Praxis said, as Toshiro was nearly to the door, causing the elf to look back over his shoulder at his superior, "call me 'general' from now on."

"Understood, General Praxis." He said, and went on his way.

Once again alone, Praxis finished arming himself, taking his BR55 and its M-404 grenade launcher attachment, and he couldn't forget his blade. Once that was done, he raced off in the direction of barrack 059.

He had a city to try and save.

* * *

&

* * *

Okay, hope all you people liked the altered version of the Vulcan, and the fact that Sig will be hanging around for the rest of the fight, rather than mysteriously reappearing with no explanation for who in the Nine Hells he managed to survive that fall, let alone pry himself out of the Metapede's jaws.

Also, I am still in need of ideas and suggestions for the sequel, particularly mission style ones, so please let me know if you have one.

And, I am in need of opinions once again. My trouble lies with the equipment for our mysterious Light Eco Channeler, and while I've managed to get an armor design down, thanks to animedragongirl, I have yet to decide upon a weapon. I am torn between giving the individual in question a long/broadsword type weapon, or something more along the lines of a naganata (a Japanese pole type weapon that basically consisted of a four and a half to five foot staff with about an eighteen inch blade upon the end, and it was used in battle in a style similar to a quarterstaff, though it could be used as a spear if need be.)

So, let me know which one you would like to see, and feel free to suggest a weapon of another type, as well.

Also, comments, criticisms, and all other ideas are welcomed with open arms, so please leave one if you so desire. (gives pleading look)

That said, I thank you all for your time, and I hope that you have a great day!


	30. City under Siege, Part I

(Phases into existence)

Hello again, everyone, so good to see you today. And it's Saturday again (pauses and looks at watch)...well...technically its Saturday.

At any rate, trying to get everything together down here, as there is a possibility that yet another hurricane is about to smack the Florida panhandle...you know, you'd think the whole, four major hurricanes in six weeks deal last year would get us a bit of a reprieve this time, but nope, can't have that, can we?

But enough about my problems.

For those of you who reviewed:

**PhiloWorm- **Yep, it worked that time, thanks a heap, it'll be very useful. Thanks for your vote as well. As far as school is concerned, I started this week as well, so I know how you feel. I'm also grateful that you place such confidence in my works, event though there are several things that could be improved about them. And as this story winds to a close, I only pray that the sequel lives up to the expectations of people like you. (bows)

**Light-Eco-Sage- **Yeah, the story's coming to an end, but I intend to make the ending a little different from the game, (as in a little more favorably for a certain pairing you seem to adore (wink, wink, nudge, nudge), while giving a little more background on Tarath, who will probably be a major character in the sequel. I hope that your internet gets up and running soon, and please let me know when it is, as I have several things I need to send you. I also hope that you have been working on your own stories as well, as I really enjoy reading them. Along those lines, when you finally do get back up and running, check out the story that Farr2rich has going, its really good, but the poor guy doesn't get a whole lot of congratulations for his work.

**MariaShadow- **Glad that you liked the changes that I made to the vulcan, and thank you for the weapon idea as well. I don't think I'll be giving it to the Light Eco user, but since looking at some photos of it, it really looks like something that Brutter would haul around with him. (outta curiosity, what in the world happens to him? We never saw him in Jak 3) Also glad that you liked the 'look.' Hope you enjoy this chapter just as much, and that I haven't messed anything up.

**animedragongirl- **Thanks for helping me out again, and I'm glad that little e-mail problem seems to be a thing of the past (sends the 'or else' glare at hotmail). Also, thank you for your input on the 'chant'. There were a few things I had some questions about though, in the corrected version, you had me get rid of a few commas that I wasn't sure about. When you are a directly addressing someone, are you supposed to set the name off by a pair of commas? Or was there something about the sentence structure that made it unnecessary? I was also confused a little bit by the 'hisself'/'himself' replacements, could you please explain? Thank you. (bows)

**StaarlaFoxfire- **I will agree with you that there are several stories out here that leave quite a bit to be desired. HOWEVER, what that simply means is that there is room for the author to improve. When you see flaws in a person's story, tell them what is wrong, but also tell them how they can correct it, and therefore improve. Also, give them ideas. Though I can think of several stories that could better occupy the number four slot on your best area, I assure you that Risen Demon wouldn't be anywhere near as good as it is were it not for the ideas given to me by my reviewers. For example, Errol's arm blaster was an idea I got from **Farr2rich**, as well as ideas for Precursean battle powers that will be unleashed in the sequel, quite a few of Jak and Kage's powers came from **PhiloWorm**, and I can't forget **animedragongirl**, who so graciously proofreads these suckers and catches the massive numbers of grammatical errors that my obsolete PC misses. And let me tell you, I have my two earliest works stored on my hard drive, and they would most definitely make numeral uno on your 'Bad' list. Basically, when you see an author doing poorly, tell them how they can improve, as constructive criticism goes a long way in helping people out.

**Lunatic Pandora1- **Actually, if you read up on what a vulcan is, you will find that it is actually a minigun (the most (in)famous one being the multi barreled one stuck on the front of the A-10 Warthog). As far as DMC is concerned...I have some very bad memories of my first encounters with the Hell Vanguards, and if these Death Scythes were anything like them, I will not relish the thought of fighting them should I ever get my hands upon a copy of the original. Thanks for the info, though, and I hope that you enjoy the Chapter.

**Evilmanic- **Thanks for the whip ideas, will probably turn into a Wastelander weapon though, simply because the Light Eco user will be able to make use of her wings as Tyrael does, from whom the original wing design comes from. (basically, she's going to have her default weapon, whatever it is decided to be, and eight wings that double as whips, which if one thinks about it, could result in some rather gruesome attacks). Thanks again, and I hope that you like the chapter.

**SRHumphrey727- **Glad that you liked the chapter, and thank you so much for sending me that guy's resume, it was a hoot and it really made my day. And with a little bit of luck, I can fill in a few more plot holes as well, as those things really get on my nerves, (which was one reason I never liked the third game as much as the second). That said, I hope that you enjoy this chapter, and please tell me what you think of it. (bows).

**Farr2rich- **Thanks for the website, it worked this time around. As far as weaponry is concerned, the Kerrog already as a longsword type weapon, the vote was for the other Light Channeler, as Jak can only use Dark Eco in this version, so he doesn't really have a light side. Still, he will be able to do a few new things once he gets my version of Mar's armor, as it will do a whole lot more than just protect. Thanks again, and I hope to see you update your own story soon.

**Exardas- **Glad to hear from you again, and I hope the camping thing was enjoyable. As to your request, yes, Praxis will buy the big one, but he shall indeed do so in a noble manner. Heck, I might be able to make someone cry if I do it well enough...nah...that would take a miracle. And I hope to make the battle between Jak and Kor considerably more explosive than it was in the game, as you were right about Kor being a pushover. Thanks again for your input, and I hope to see more of your own story in the future.

**Xeno-Freak- **A Light Eco using Errol...I don't think anyone would see that coming. As far as them obeying him...well. the Dark Makers strike me as guys/gals who live by the 'Might Makes Right' type of thinking, so perhaps you could use that to explain. Speaking of which, did you get that e-mail that I sent you with the military forces? And Praxis will do quite well against the Metal Heads before his inevitable demise, and he and Jak actually meet up in this chapter. Hope you enjoy it, and thanks for the input. (bows)

To everyone that read but did not review, I hope that you have found the story thus far to be worthy of your time and attention.

Lawyers: ya know the darn drill, I no own, so lay of my case and go file a lawsuit with the fast-food corporations.

That said, sit back, and please enjoy my amateur attempts at writing a story.

* * *

&

* * *

City under Siege, Part I

Frantically, the tech head's hands flew over the controls at his station as he tried desperately to get the situation under control.

Metal Heads were everywhere, destroying everything, and Vin was doing his best to try and get the Eco Grid to respond to the city's current needs, most namely among those were getting the defensive auto-turrets up and running. Unfortunately, whoever was directing this attack had been a very good strategist, as on their way up from below, the monstrous invaders had destroyed or otherwise rendered inoperable every single power circuit that could be used to get them into the action.

That left him with one final option: he had to try and gain access to the older power grids. Alas for him, that meant attempting to redirect the power for the entire metropolis onto an area that hadn't been used in decades.

Not to mention the fact that several of the access control functions were password sealed. Passwords that he of course, did not know.

Addition to his anxiety and woe was the fact that the Metal Heads were apparently heading this way. And the engineer was smart enough to know why that was: if this power plant went down, then all of Haven City went down with it.

The Hora-quan, oh dear gods how he feared them. Unconsciously, he felt that old panic begin to rise within him, the urge to run, to flee somewhere, anywhere to get away from them. A sickening mental image filled his mind's eye, of his eyes, glassy and unfocused, staring into space while the creatures tore at the remnants of his body.

With a snarl of self-loathing, he shook the image away. How could he even dare to think of running, when so much was riding upon his shoulders? Refocusing his attention, he went back to trying to get the automatic defenses online and operational.

For several more minutes, his hands blurred over their various keyboards, but still his progress was woefully slow.

Abruptly, his concentration was shattered by the sound of trampling as his fellows stampeded out. One stopped just long enough to shout a warning to him.

"Come on, Vin, the Metal Heads are coming this way, we've been ordered out!" he said, his voice unsteady.

"Then go!" the ageing engineer snarled over his shoulder, before resuming his work. "I've got a job to do!"

Then other worker looked pleadingly at him for a moment or two, before he rejoined the throng of people attempting to make it to the evacuation transports.

However, even as Vin turned back to his primary viewing screen, another problem cropped up. A warning siren blared, and a flashing red area of the Eco Grid layout suddenly caught his attention. His mouth dropped open in disbelief at what he saw.

One of the power generators for the Shield Wall had just been taken out.

Horror grasped him 'round the heart as he realized what the Hora-quan were doing. Right now, the enemy only had a single entrance way for their assault, but if the wall fell they would be open to attack from the enemy aerial units as well.

He held back a sob of frustration. He knew what he had to do, but he just couldn't move fast enough to do it, he could not will this body of his to be able to keep up with the destruction.

It was then, in a moment of crystal clear realization that Vin knew what he had to do.

* * *

The doors of the elevator hissed open, and the group of five stepped out, their weapons held at ready.

For the most part, though, the Harbor area was deserted, with most of the Metal Heads having moved on to different sectors from this location. However, there was the occasional Grunt or Drone that had gotten separated from the rest of its group still popping up.

At one point, in fact, a group of five such creatures had hopped out from a manhole cover right in front of them. They'd gotten one good look at the group, before a well-placed dark bomb had snuffed out their lives, their death wails being quite satisfying to the Ascended Channeler responsible for their demise.

However, Jak was no fool, and realized that for every one of these things that they managed to kill, there were literally millions more just waiting to take its place. Nonetheless, there was not a single person in the group who planned on giving up and dying. They also realized that they stood a much better chance if they managed to link up with at least some of the Underground. And so, with that in mind, Keira, still scanning around for any potential threats, got out her comm., and dialed up Torn.

The device beeped a few times, and then the Revenant picked up.

"What?" he snarled, and all present heard the sound of gunfire and swearing coming from his end of the line.

"Keira here, what's the situation where you are?" she asked.

"What the hell do you think it is?" The Underground commander shouted back at her, before he became distracted by something else. "Suppressive fire, suppressive fire, cover that side street!" there was a veritable roar of gunfire as the resistance soldiers did as they were instructed.

"Where are you?" the aqua haired elf asked as she raced along with rest of the group.

"We're pinned down near the Alpha Sector of the slums." Torn replied, and a plasmite grenade went off behind him, lighting him up in an eerie way.

"Give us ten minutes and we'll meet you there." Jak growled from off to the side, where he had spotted a downed K.G. speeder bike and a three-person zoomer that still looked operational.

"If there are any of us left by then, so get your ass in gear, blondie!" came Jynx's voice as he opened up with by his DC-17 and his morph gun upon some of his enemies.

"Will do." Keira replied, hopping into a side seat of the three-seater.

Tess clambered into the central driver seat, and Sig squeezed into the left side as best he could with the vulcan on, while Jak got up on the bike. As for Daxter, the multiple near death experiences he had had with Jak while the dark elf had been behind the handlebars of a speeder bike caused him to opt to take his chances with the others. It was just as well as far as Jak was concerned, as not having the furry rodent perched upon his shoulder would enable him to maneuver the bike better, particularly if he were to go in for an attack run.

And if one were to look at him, at how he held Kitetsu in one hand as the zoomers rose into the air, it would not take a rocket scientist to figure out that he probably planned on doing such an assault a few times on their way to the slums.

* * *

Torn flipped off his comm. device, and then hastily put it away, before taking a good look around and ripping out his assault rifle clip. He thumbed a switch on the morph gun, and it hummed for a moment, before the circuitry of the weapon rearranged itself and it transformed into the ugly, but very effective, shredder. He slapped the box shaped clip home a moment later and leveled the gun at an advancing group of Grunts.

He squeezed the trigger, and the familiar red beam of energy shot at the enemy group. It hit the center Grunt dead on, before breaking apart and lashing out at those standing near it.

Three fell, while several more charged on, now sporting some rather nasty looking wounds. The Revenant fired again, and this time five went down. Fire from his comrades joined him as he tried to hold them at bay, and yet they still came, hurling themselves at their elven foes if for no other reason than to deplete their ammunition supplies.

Torn fired again and again, every last one of his shots bringing at least a single enemy down, and, finally, the effort of both him and the troops under his command paid off, and the last Grunt fell. However, it collapsed in its death throes not ten feet from where they were. The message that sent was ominous.

One good charge, one powerful drive at them, and they were history.

His growl distorted by the external speakers of his armor suit, Torn reloaded his shredder, vowing that he would not die like this, would not allow those under his command and responsibility die like this. He primed his morph gun, and brought it up, staring around with his the night vision of his helmet, looking for an enemy that he knew was all around them, but remained just out of sight.

However, Murphy's Law struck the very next instant.

Torn felt it more than he heard it, that sinking feeling in his gut kicking in as something very bad happened. Instinctively he looked up, and saw, to his horror, the shimmering protection of the Shield Wall disappearing as the power generators supplying it were destroyed. It was then that Torn decided to exercise his knowledge of the various different curses and expletives in the elven language.

"You know," Jynx groaned, looking up at the sky, where his night vision could already see flyer units swarming down, "with all that's gone wrong today, I could have sworn that we deserved a bit of break. But nooooooooo, we can't have that, can we?"

Torn remained silent after his initial outburst, switching his morph gun back to its assault rifle mode, and sighting up the closest Wasp that he could see. The Revenant squeezed the trigger, and a quad burst of Yellow Eco bolts went up towards the flying Metal Head. However, Wasps were known for their aerial agility, and it dodged the bolts with ease. Torn, noting the direction that it had headed off in, fired again, and then a third time.

His aerial opponent, trying to bring its own, shorter ranged weapon to bear, evaded the second burst of gunfire, however, it had not expected the gray armored soldier to have such a cunning mind, and when it jerked over to the left in an attempt to keep Torn relatively in the center of its vision, it leaped right into the third burst. It had time to screech in surprise, before the Eco bolts hit home, shattering through its carapace and killing it almost instantly.

Not even bothering to watch the oversized bug fall to the ground, Torn was already getting another one in his crosshairs. This one also managed to evade the first few rounds of anti air fire that came against it, but it made the mistake of not dodging all the way to the right to avoid one burst, and the Revenant wound up clipping its wings in a very literally sense of the phrase.

And, as the Wasps drew closer, more and more weapons became trained upon them, as shorter ranged submachine guns were brought to bear. As it had been all those years before in their assault upon the Metal Head Nest, The elves found that when one was dealing with an agile, but rather fragile, airborne adversary, it was perhaps best just to fill the air with Eco and remove their ability to dodge.

Still, swatting Wasps out of the sky was one thing, but the Ancients preserve them if any Guardians decided to drop by for a visit, as the streets were far to narrow for them to dodge out of the way effectively.

The next attack, thankfully, did not have any of those overgrown beetles. However, what it did possess was a combination of fire raking in from above, while a formation of Grunts, Drones, and a few Centurions moved in from their six o'clock. Adding to the problem was a couple of Crab Heads that were expertly directing their lesser brethren.

"Watch your sixes!" He heard Jynx shout, as his brother in arms trained his two submachine guns upon the encroaching tide of darkness.

As best as they could, the fifty odd Underground soldiers divided their fire between the airborne Wasps, and their ground-pounding comrades. Eco bolts of all colors and descriptions lit of the surrounding area like some morbid fireworks finale, with a few plasmite grenades being adding to the mix. They detonated a few seconds later, and bestial wails testified to Metal Head casualties.

However, the elves suffered losses as well. Here a resistance soldier dropped as a Wasp blasted him through his heart. There, a man went down, screaming as the Grunt on top of him put its fangs to work.

A Drone leapt at Torn, thinking to bear him to the ground as well. However, what happened instead caused its primitive brain to wonder how in the world the gray armored elf suddenly managed to sprout a glowing green claw. It had about half a second to ponder this turn of events, before the Revenant lunged forward and caught the quadrupedal Metal Head in mid-leap, driving his gauntlet mounted vibro blade into its throat before twisting violently to the right and ripping the sound blade across. This resulted in a rather messy decapitation that sent black blood spurting everywhere.

Not pausing an instant, Torn leveled his gun, and opened fire on the rest of the ground based enemies. Jynx, meanwhile, turned his twin submachine guns upon the Wasps, while mentally wishing that there was a crop duster and a healthy amount of pesticide available to make use of.

* * *

They were getting close now, and here the devastation was even more obvious, and that was saying something. All throughout the city, the group had seen the havoc that had been wreaked by the Metal Heads. Their numbers were enormous, and they'd swept over barricades, command posts, and generally slaughtered a good number of those that had opted to fight instead of flee. Even Daxter, usually the joking and sarcastic member of the group, felt his ears droop as he had stared around from the relative safety of the zoomer.

Nothing was safe, and no one immune to the danger, as the smoldering remains of M808 assault tanks and even a few Hellcat gunships attested to.

Furthermore, the Shield Wall had gone down about five minutes ago, which now left them vulnerable to aerial assault. It was an advantage that the Hora-quan were being quick to capitalize upon, with Wasps buzzing about and a few Guardians landing amongst the various districts of the elven city, where they quickly destroyed defensive emplacements with their devastating breath weapons.

Still, Jak, Keira, and the others had bigger things to worry about at the moment, and much as it pained them, they had to worry about bailing out Torn and the others before they could turn their attention to a full-scale counter assault.

Finally, rounding a corner at top speed, the dark elf spotted their comrades, under siege from yet another furious Hora-quan assault. Most obvious were the two Crab Heads at the rear, standing up to full height and laying down fire from their twin blasters. Remembering the old adage of 'cut off the head and the body shall die,' Jak dove towards the ground, and pulled Kitetsu back, its blade already stained dark from several kills he'd made along the way when the opportunity had presented itself.

The screaming noise of the speeder bike alerted the ten-foot tall monstrosities to the elf's blitzkrieg type attack, and both of them turned at the same time to see Jak bearing down on them at triple digit speeds. The first one hastily raised its blasters and hastily opened fire. However, Jak was too close, moving too fast, for it to even hope that it had a chance to bring him down. It snarled in denial an instant before the dark katana connected with its throat, slicing through it and cutting the thing's head off. Its blasters fired a few times as its corpse twitched, but the Ascended Channeler was already streaking towards its comrade.

This one kept its cool a little bit better than its friend had, and its fire was considerably more accurate as a result. However, what it hadn't counted on was Jak suddenly leaping out of the seat of the bike and leaving it to zoom straight at the Metal Head commander like an oversized bullet. The creature's eyes widened in surprise for the split second that it had to realize what was about to happen, before the speeder slammed into its chest armor, crushing it and propelling it onto its back, where its skidding would result in several of its underlings 'wiping out' as well.

Then, as if he hadn't grabbed their attention well enough, Jak sent out a burst of Dark Eco lighting just as soon as his feet touched the ground, willing the Channeled attack to head after the airborne Metal Heads. Shortly thereafter, the Wasps started dropping like flies, pun definitely intended.

The remaining Grunts, Drones and Centurions promptly turned around, and instantly realized the nature of this new foe. The shield carriers hissed in their native tongue as they attempted to take control of the situation, and they directed the lesser Hora-quan to attack the dark elf.

"You want a piece of me?" Jak cried, summoning a shadow blade from Kitetsu, before whipping them both around. "Then come and get me!"

The Metal Heads, born and bred for battle, were all to willing too comply. However, they did not realize that this was no ordinary Channeler that they were dealing with, that Jak was something much more dangerous than they had ever thought they would encounter.

The first one reached him, a Grunt, and as it leapt, Kitetsu split its head in half. As it hit the ground, a Drone attempted a similar maneuver, and Jak leaned backwards, the twin swords in his hands converging to cleave it in two at its midsection. He pressed off of the ground, putting himself into a back flip, coming down and preparing himself as the next ones came.

The Centurions, meanwhile, had kept up the assault upon the elven resistance, as they were smart enough to realize that someone had to keep those blasters busy. However, there was something they had not anticipated, and that was a zoomer filled with three very pissed off elves who just happened to be armed to the teeth with weaponry to come zipping around a corner a few seconds into Jak's conflict with the other Hora-quan.

As the dark elf sliced and diced below them, Keira leaned out from her side of the hovercraft, her morph gun set to its RPG mode. Two well-placed rocket propelled plasmite grenades were all it took to eliminate any sense of coordination among the attackers. As bits and pieces of the Metal Heads rained down, Torn and his fellows renewed their own assault, opening fire upon the surviving monsters from behind while the elven meat grinder on the other end cut down any who got too close.

After they were finished, Tess put the zoomer down in the middle of the street, while Jak walked up, still clutching his bloodied blades. Torn, reloading once again, nodding in their direction, his face unreadable behind his helmet.

"About time you guys got your sorry butts up here!" He growled, looking around at the devastation that had been wreaked.

"Got here as fast as we could." Keira said with a shrug of her shoulders, before seeing that someone was not present among the elves here. "Where's Ashelin?"

"She took a couple of squads and headed north, trying to get the Residential Sectors secure enough for civilian evac." the grizzled commander replied, nodding his head in the direction of said area.

However, before anything else could be said, or they could decide to go give their comrade some backup, Jynx abruptly stiffened, and shook his head as if in disbelief.

"What is it, Jynx?" Tess inquired, noticing the sudden change in the gray armored warrior.

"My suit's radio transponder is picking up a K.G. priority one distress single from around here." the pyromaniac responded, looking over to them before patching the message through the external speakers of his Katarn battle armor.

"Repeat!" came a voice that was distorted by static. "This is Corporal Benton Davis, serial number 10375, we are pinned down and under heavy Metal Head assault at the Epsilon Sector of the slums!" static suddenly interrupted the transmission again, before the K.G. was heard again. "Mother of the Ancients, Keith watch your seven o'clock!"

More swears were heard over the comm. line, before the corporal could again be heard.

"Damn it, is anyone on this freq?" he exclaimed, irritation, anger, and fear all present in his voice. "For the Precursor's sake, there's only four of us, and we have civilians over here!"

Jynx cut the feed after that, looking around at the others, and more specifically, looking to his brother in arms for what to do next.

"Epsilon Sector," the Revenant mused, scratching the chin part of his helmet with his left hand, "that's only about a half of a mile from here, right?"

"More or less." Tess confirmed, still on the lookout for enemies.

"Then let's get moving." Torn said.

"Wait a minute." A random Underground member stated all of a sudden. "We're actually going to help the Krimzon Guard?"

"I don't know if you've taken a look around lately," Daxter said, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes as he entered the conversation, "but Metal Heads really don't care if you're wearing a fancy red uniform or not, they just want you dead."

'_**I believe the phrase is, 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend?'' **_Kage rumbled, though none but Jak could hear him.

"The rat's right." Torn said, and several people did a double take at the fact that he was agreeing with the rodent. "Besides," he continued, looking over at the resistance soldier, "you heard the message, do you want to leave those civilians to their fate just because it's K.G. that are protecting them?"

The Underground member remained silent, and Torn mutter a quiet 'thought so' before to told everyone to get up and get moving.

* * *

They had been on the move for about ten minutes, and things had taken a little longer than they had anticipated, as they had run-ins with several small bands of opposition. However, between Jak's powers, Sig's vulcan (of which Jynx was now green with envy over) and Keira's grenadier and sniping skills, they dealt with their problems swiftly enough. And now, they were finally drawing close.

"One thing I don't understand is this," Keira said as she reloaded in mid run, "how in the name of Mar could four Krimzon Guards hold off so many Metal Heads for so long?"

"Gimme a sec and I'll try to find out." Jynx replied as he stared down in the direction of the S.O.S. call, activating his helmet's built in macro-binoculars "Son of a croca dog." He muttered after a couple of seconds, not pausing in his stride. "Those clever bastards."

"What is it?" Sig inquired, keeping up rather well despite the massive gun he was carrying.

"I'd forgotten that this area had been selected for demolition and renovation," Jynx replied, "they've commandeered a quartet of construct Ex-Os."

As they drew closer, the others could see that that was indeed the case. Construction Exo-Skeletons, designed to assist in dangerous projects of both building and demolition, were a fairly common thing to see around such places. It also was a rather brilliant move on the part of these defenders. The suits came in several varieties, two of which were present here. One model, codenamed 'titan', had a trio of offset, hydraulically powered 'fingers' on each hand, two on the top and one on the bottom. It was designed to assist in the removal of debris after a building had been demolished and in transporting heavy materials around a construction site. They were also apparently rather adept at crushing any Metal Heads unfortunate enough to find themselves in their titanium grip.

The other model was often jokingly referred to as a 'termite.' One might be confused at first, as it bore little resemblance to the blind wood eating insects, until one realized that it was their job to assist in bringing down the house, so to speak. With its left 'hand' being a high powered turbo saw, and its right plasma torch that was capable of hitting ten thousand degrees in about two seconds, one could easily see that it was very well equipped to do its job.

Both models also sported three-inch thick armor platting to protect the pilot inside, with the only really weak point being a small windshield to allow for the person inside to see. However, even this was heavily reinforced in the event of an accident. They also had jet boosters that would allow for them to 'jump' or to quickly move about in order to escape a potential catastrophe.

And so, equipped as such, these four Krimzon Guards were making a final, desperate stand, and several dozen bodies indicated they were doing their job quite well.

They were far from invincible, however, as one of the titan Ex-Os was swarmed by about ten Grunts, who used their combined strength to bear it to the ground, where they began to scratch and tear at it with animalistic fury. Realizing the danger that the pilot was in, and knowing how great a help those Exo-Skeletons would be in their attempts to save the city, Jak decided to intervene, and show these freaks the greatest power he had at his disposal.

There was a crack, and he once again teleported, appearing right at the edge of the fray.

For a moment, time seemed to stop, and both Guards and Hora-quan stared at him, before a Crab Head promptly sicced its underlings upon him. Jak merely smirked, and dispelled his shadow blade, sheathing Kitetsu at the same time. He then brought both of his hands together, and concentrated as hard as he could. He felt the power well up from within his soul, and it gathered within his palms. The Metal Heads paused for one second, unsure of what to make of this phenomenon. That hesitation would prove to be a fatal error on their part.

Jak opened his eyes, which now glowed a shocking purple, and unleashed the pent up Dark Eco with a battle cry. However, what came from his hands was not dark lighting or the energy orbs that so often comprised these attacks. It was instead, something that was very fine and mist-like, not something would normally associated with the dark element. However, its benign appearance was indeed deceiving, as the cloud expanded outwards, breaking off into tendril like projections and swarming towards its targets as the Ascended Channeler commanded. The mist surged around, weaving about the Exo-Skeletons, enveloping the fiendish invaders…and Death himself would have been chilled to the core by the screams that emanated from within that dark haze.

A few seconds later, the shadows departed and faded into nothingness, with nary a trace of those who were caught in it to be found. There was only one exception. A Grunt growled in agony and tried pitifully to crawl away, its rear legs and tail eaten away by the attack. Panting from the exertion, Jak walked over, heedless of the stares that the K.G. were giving to him, drew Kitetsu, and stabbed it into the beast. The crystal in the hilt flashed a moment later and the blade began to feed upon the Dark Eco that was within the creature.

"Wow," Daxter remarked from his perch upon Tess's shoulder as she and the others drew closer, "didn't know it came in aerosol form."

As for Corporal Benton and his fellows, they had a conversation of a similar nature using the comm. lines that the Ex-Os had within them.

"See?" the K.G. regular said to the remains of his squad. "Now are you glad I didn't let you run off and try to capture him?"

There was a chorus of affirmatives as the dark elf leaned back against one of the slum buildings. It was clear that Jak needed a bit of a breather, as the attack had taken a lot out of him.

"Who's the ranking person here?" Torn growled as he walked into the square.

"That would be me…Sir." Benton replied saluting with his termite's plasma torch. "I guess you guys must have picked up my distress signal."

"We did." The Revenant confirmed, before staring around at the ruined buildings. "Where are the civilians?"

"Hiding out in that structure over there." The Guard member answered, pointing to an old projects building. "They're keeping their heads down until air support arrives to get them out of here…though we're not sure how long it'll be 'fore that happens." He finished, his voice scarcely above a murmur.

Torn was pondering what to do, what courses of action might be taken, when a comm. unit went off. Several people stared around, looking at their own devices in an attempt to figure out whose it was. A couple of seconds later, Keira realized that it was hers, and she switched it on.

"Keira!" came Samos' gruff voice from the other end.

"Daddy?" the aqua haired elf responded, somewhat startled. "What are you doing out here?"

"My younger self and I are trying to defend the Rift Rider in the Stadium area, along with a few other soldiers." He said, before she heard what sounded like an explosion in the background, and Shadow's defiant screaming.

"Hang on!" She told her old man, her eyes roaming about until they fell on Jak, who was still attempting to recuperate. "We're on our way!"

"No!" the old Sage countered immediately, causing Keira to give her comm. unit a strange look. "You know that new construction area that's being set up on the south western zone of the city?" He asked, continuing when she'd said yes. "Well, you, Jak, and Daxter need to get there now."

"But…" she began, clearly reluctant to run off and do something else when it sounded like her adoptive father could have used some help.

"Keira, trust me on this one, please." Samos said in a strangely desperate tone. "I can't explain, but you need to get there soon. And tell Torn and Jynx that they need to head towards the residential section and back Ashelin up, she and her troops are getting bogged down."

"Will do." The mechanic responded, realizing that any further arguing between her and her old man would simply be a waste of time.

Torn, who had overheard everything, was grateful that his helmet concealed the suddenly look of panic that had come over his face at the thought of something happening to Ashelin. Still, this wasn't the first time he'd been in a situation like this, and he managed to keep a level head while Keira rounded up Sig, Jak and Tess, and figured out what to do with his remaining forces as well as the four K.G. that were here.

"Cody!" he called out after about thirty seconds worth of mulling things over in his head.

The called for Underground member emerged, revealing himself to be an elf with a strange bluish red hue to his hair.

"Yes, Sir?" the resistance soldier inquired with his unusual accent.

"Take half the group, and two of those Ex-Os, and stand guard here until a drop ship or something comes along and gets them out." the elite warrior ordered, getting an affirmative head nod from the Underground member. He then turned and addressed Benton. "Grab one of your squad mates and come with the rest of us, we're going to go try and help secure the Residential Sector."

The corporal saluted as best he could, and ordered one of his friends to form up with him. They then headed north, moving as fast as they could to assist their comrades.

'_Hang on, Ash,' _Torn silently prayed, _'the cavalry's coming.'_

* * *

As luck would have it, Cody and the others would not have to wait very long to be relieved of their high stakes babysitting job. However, that did not mean that they had an easy time, as another group of Metal Heads had rushed them. Fortunately, the Underground officer's quick thinking kept everyone alive, though there were a few combat wounds that were sustained during the fighting.

Not long after the assault was repelled, a couple of transport ships came along. One of the K.G. in the construction Exo-Skeletons was quick to wave them down, and the two of them stopped in the square, unloading their troops.

However, nobody was really prepared for who jumped out of the first ship.

The moonlight was absorbed by the obsidian armor, and the facial scars were the unmistakable markings of none other than Praxis.

Instinctively, the two Krimzon Guard members saluted, while the Underground, peeking up from their various positions, exchanged uncertain looks with each other. At last, Cody got up, and walked up to the scarred elf, noting the lack of his titanium head plate.

"What's going on here?" Praxis inquired of the man, who just a few hours ago had been among his enemies.

"Civilians hunkered down in the building." Cody replied, gesturing over to the structure with his hand.

"Get them out and loaded up." General Praxis said, and his men made haste to comply with the order. He then took the time to look around. "You've been busy." He muttered, his eye taking in the carnage that was present.

"You should have seen it before Jak came through." Cody remarked, shaking his head as he remembered the power that the dark elf had unleashed upon the first assaulting group.

"Jak was here?" Praxis exclaimed, scarcely daring to believe his luck.

"Yeah," the Underground member remarked, "and he thrashed about forty Metal Heads before he and a few others headed off towards the new construction zone."

Needless to say, the General was quick to order Toshiro and the rest of his bodyguard into formation, and they promptly set off in that direction, leaving the rest of the K.G. with orders to assist the Underground in any way they possibly could.

* * *

Tailing Jak and company was rather like following a trail of breadcrumbs; one simply had to follow the enormous number of Metal Head corpses that littered the street. This also meant that they could travel very swiftly, as most of the opposition was already taken care of.

So it was after about twenty minutes of running through the city that they were able to catch up to the renegade and his compadres, the sounds of combat telling them that they were close. Praxis felt his blood begin to burn, and he double-checked his rifle, making sure that it was ready to unleash his vengeance upon these monsters that dared to strike his home.

It was then that something strange happened: he forgot all the troubles of his soul, all the burden that he had felt upon his shoulders. Gone was all the economics and politics of his self-appointed ruler ship, there was only this burning desire to defend Haven City. He was once again a soldier, and everything seemed to fall into place.

As they rounded a corner, the battle came into view. Jak was leading from the front, Kitetsu and a strange phantom blade tearing through the bestial Hora-quan and effortlessly deflecting Eco bolts back at the higher ranking ones. By his side was Keira, her morph gun blazing as she dropped a Centurion, blasting it through the small gap on the side of its energy shield.

There were two other elves, one carrying a submachine gun while the other one was hauling around a multi-barreled blaster so large it would have looked more at home on a Hellcat than anything else…and he suddenly realized what had been responsible for those piles of meaty giblets they'd kept running into on their little trip. And of course, rounding out the group was that loud mouthed rodent that was apparently the very reason that Jak was still alive, something Praxis was quite grateful for.

But he put such thoughts aside for now, there was an enemy that needed to be neutralized.

Toshiro, ever the marksman, spotted them first. Several Wasps had taken up positions on the rooftops, and now were training their wrist mounted blasters upon the group.

"Hostiles, on the roofs!" he shouted, sighting the first one up and putting an Eco bolt right through its head.

Praxis brought his own weapon up, and though his BR-55 may have lacked the optics that his second in command's sniper rifle had, he was still able to see enough of his target to score a trio of shots upon his chosen foe.

Jak, in the process of decapitating a Drone, looked back over his shoulder for a split second as he heard the fire, and couldn't stop himself from pausing momentarily and letting a slightly baffled look come over his face as the person that had turned him into what he was came charging in with his bodyguards, their weapons filling the night air with bolts of superheated Eco.

'_**Undeniable proof that the gods love irony.' **_His inner demon muttered with a shake of his head.

A snarl from in front, followed by his cheek virtually being removed, and Kage cursing himself for being so careless, brought him back to the situation at hand. He instinctively brought both of his blades up, and the twin katanas split the offending Metal Head in half.

With the additional firepower of Praxis and his men entering the equation, the attackers were swiftly dealt with, a final four second burst from the vulcan that Sig had strapped on ripping the last one apart, signaling the end of the firefight.

The din faded away into an eerie and rather awkward silence, as two old enemies stared at each other. Finally, after eternity and a day went by, Jak broke the silence.

"What are you doing here?" he growled.

"Trying to help you out and make certain you don't get yourself killed." Praxis returned grimly, reloading his assault rifle as he matched Jak's eye. Gods, the General thought to himself, how the Ascended Channeler reminded him of Damas.

"When did you suddenly begin to care about his health?" Keira snapped at him, her eyes burning as she recalled what she had seen in Mar's Tomb, the two years of hell that this man had put her beloved through.

"I've been doing some thinking…" Praxis said, his voice quiet. "And I've come to realize that what I've done…" he suddenly shook his head.

"Looking for forgiveness?" Jak asked incredulously.

"I'm not really sure." The scarred elf responded with a shrug of his shoulders. "All I want to do now is save this city."

Jak stared long and hard into Praxis' single eye, his own alien ones piercing the other elf's soul. After a brief time, he nodded, realizing that something had changed within Haven's ruler.

"Your comrade back in the slums said that you were headed for the construction zone?" the General asked, realizing that they needed to get a move on.

"And what if we were?" Sig growled, a detectible amount of animosity towards the black armored warrior.

"Then it's a very good thing, because we have the same destination." Praxis said. "There is something there that we need to retrieve…something that these freaks want so badly that they're willing to storm the city to get it."

"And just what would that be?" Keira asked, staring at him strangely.

"The Precursor Stone."

They were off in a flash.

* * *

A half hour of frantic fighting, and several close calls later, they reached their destination. What they found there was surprising to say the least.

Kor, aging, elderly, and tae-kawn-do prone Kor stood there, muttering quietly to himself about something.

Abruptly, his ears twitching, the old elf turned around to face them as they spread out.

"Ahh, I was wondering when you all would show up." He replied, and something about his tone of voice instantly began setting off warning bells.

"What are you doing here, Kor," Jak inquired, staring at the elf suspiciously, "and where's Alex?"

"Alex, oh rest assured, Dark One, that the boy is just fine...you would know if something had happened to him, trust me." the old man responded with a crooked grin upon his ancient visage.

The use of that particular title to address Jak only put everyone a little bit more on edge.

"And Praxis, how nice of you to join us." He continued, before the General interrupted him.

"And just who the hell are you?" the scarred elf inquired, remembering the impossible feats that the old man had performed.

"Why not ask them?" Kor said, gesturing to Jak, Keira, and Daxter with his right hand. "Jak and I in particular have a rather interesting history with one another." He continued, staring at the dark elf, who appeared somewhat confused by what he was rambling on about. "We've met before, remember? Deep down in your darkest nightmares!"

As he finished, the old elf's pupils suddenly dilated alarmingly, until they filled up his eyes, and the strange tone that entered his voice…

Jak suddenly dropped Kitetsu, and fell to his knees, both of his hands clutching his skull as he cried out in agony. Keira and Daxter were at his side in an instant, trying frantically to figure out what had happened to him.

"What did you do to him?" Keira snarled, her eyes looking ready to snap Kor's neck in half.

"Oh, it's nothing permanent." Kor replied dismissively. "He's just taking a rather nasty trip down memory lane. Personally, were I either of you two freaks, I'd be a tad bit more worried about myself." He told them with a sneering chuckle, and promptly cast aside his walking stave. "After all, without this hell accursed Shield Wall disrupting my powers, I can finally get rid of this frail disguise."

As he finished, a tearing sound rent the air, and a quartet of massive insectiod wings, like the kind one would associate with an overgrown dragon-fly, burst from his back. They all watched, in disbelief, as his features continued to become distorted. Finally, an agonizing cry came forth from the 'elf' and darkness enveloped them all.

What the next saw, was a sight that each and everyone present would be carrying to their graves.

Kor and the Metal Head Leader were the same being, and Keira felt her mouth drop open as she stared at him.

He stood before them in all of his awful glory, his eight arachnid legs allowing him to rear up to his true height, which was something in the neighborhood of twenty five feet. The lower half of his body was twice that length and reminded her very much of a scorpion, and it was complete with a very nasty looking tail of similar origins. Kor's torso and arms, however, where disturbingly humanoid in their appearance, though they were covered by some sort of armored carapace as opposed to skin, and his hands ended in talons that would have sent Freddy Krueger into a jealous rage.

His head, however, was clearly alien. Four glowing gold eyes stared down upon them, while eight strange protrusions ringed his skull, like some sort of bizarre head piece. Fangs that were easily a foot in length filled his cavernous mouth, and a glowing green skull gem shimmered from the center of his forehead.

What was also curious, was a strange set of scars upon his left upper chest. The first was a straight line that ran downwards from right to left, while the second one ran the opposite way, and was shaped like a crescent moon. Suddenly, the aqua haired elf remembered back to Mar's Tomb, where he'd clutched his chest in pain, and realized that these must have been behind the discomfort.

"Holy…" Sig muttered quietly, "he's bigger than I'd thought he'd be."

"Now then," the Hora-quan Overmind rumbled in a voice that would have made stout men quiver in fear, "I believe you have something in your possession that I need, Praxis, and I grow weary of asking nicely. So, for the last time, where is the Precursor Stone!"

"In a place you would never think to look!" Praxis retorted as he succeeded in fighting down the fear in his gut.

"Tell me where it is, elf, and I might just find it within myself to spare your pathetic and insignificant life." Kor growled, his four eyes narrowing and irritation present in his voice.

"At least I'll die a soldier, then!" Praxis screamed, before cocking his M-404 and firing.

His aim was true, and Kor, too startled by such an aggressive move against him to take any form of defensive action, took the grenade round right in the face.

Unfortunately, the plasmite explosive did little more than make the Metal Head Leader that much angrier.

"So be it, then!" he roared, leaping forward to attack with nightmarish speed.

Yellow Eco suddenly crackled in his left hand, and he fired it at the group of elves before him. Most, Praxis included, managed to get out of the way, but two, Toshiro among them, did not, and were caught in the shockwave of the blast. Another elite found himself impaled upon the giant creature's talons, where he twitched out his life in agony.

Less than a second later, Kor leapt forward again, this time catching Praxis, who was still in mid dive, with a glancing blow from one of his many legs. The General went sailing into some scaffolding, which promptly collapsed upon him.

All the while, Sig hosed Kor down with fire from the vulcan, and Tess did the same with her own weapon, though no damage could be seen upon the monster, and he was apparently content to ignore them. Seeing how little progress they was making, both stopped firing, deciding it might be best if they didn't draw attention to themselves after watching the Metal Head Leader in action.

"Argh!" said monstrosity screamed in frustration. "I have no time for this!" he turned to face Jak, Keira and Daxter, the foremost of whom was finally done having part of his mind unlocked. "I'll deal with you three freaks later, but right now, I'm going to find that damn Stone if I have to rip this whole city apart one dura-crete block at a time!"

With that, Kor spread his wings and took to the sky, the buzzing sound that he made when flying quickly fading in the distance.

Off to one side, the smashed wood and dura-steel that made up the collapsed scaffolding was tossed aside as Praxis forced his way out, his powered armor lending him the strength that he needed to do so. Getting to his feet, the elven General stared around, assessing who was still alive. Instantly, he spotted his second in command, and rushed over to him.

Toshiro was in a bad way, a bit of rebar having impaled him through the upper portion of his right shoulder. With a swear, Praxis knelt down next to him, carefully examining the wound. He shouted over his shoulder for one of his other surviving bodyguards to bring him a medkit. He then drew his blade, and hacked off the part of the metal that connected it to the rest of the debris.

"On three, I'm going to pull this out. Understand?" he asked the commander, who nodded faintly, his teeth gritted in pain. "One…" Praxis said, before suddenly yanking the rebar out.

Toshiro choked back a scream of agony as the other guard arrived with a medkit that he'd gotten from some construction equipment.

"What happened to two?" the officer faintly asked, as the Green Eco was applied to his wound.

The substance did its work quickly, and Toshiro would be fit to fight, though he would always have a rather nasty looking scar where he'd been stabbed.

Meanwhile, Keira and Daxter were being assured by Jak that he was still alright himself, though the dark elf was having a hard time putting two and two together, now that he realized the complete truth of things.

"I remember." He suddenly said quietly, causing Keira to stare at him.

"Remember what?" the aqua haired elf asked.

"Who I am, what I was." Was the enigmatic answer she got, before Jak, a strange new light in his eyes, bent down, and retrieved the Blade of Mar.

It was a weapon, which he now realized he had a better claim to than anyone else on the planet, and he laughed inwardly at the delicious irony of Onin's private joke.

'_**By my honor…' **_was all Kage could say as he skimmed through these new images. _**'I had no idea…'**_

'_That makes two of us.' _Jak told his guardian devil, as he looked around what parts of Haven he could see with an entirely new perspective.

What Jak hadn't been aware of was the fact that both Sig and Praxis were listening in on his conversation. Sig appeared somewhat confused, as did Praxis, but his was only for a moment. For once that moment passed, everything fell into place. Why Jak seemed to remind him so much of Damas, why the boy was such a skilled warrior, everything just made sense now. He then did the funniest thing: he started to laugh.

"I don't believe it!" he exclaimed after a second or two.

"Reality," Jak said with an icy tone to his voice as he glared over at the General, "doesn't care what you believe."

"Something he would have said as well." The general remarked, before adding one after statement. "Nice to see that at least one of my predictions came true."

He then looked off in the direction that Kor had flown, before shaking his head.

"And you're impatience will be the end of you yet." The armored elf growled, before pulling a remote from his utility belt.

He pressed a random button on it, and part of the ground suddenly split open, and a pedestal came up, revealing the Precursor Stone, glistening softly in the night light. He then turned to Jak, and motioned for him to take the fist sized gem.

"You've got more right to it than anyone else." was all the general had to say about that.

Jak did as he was instructed, and then looked over to Daxter and then to Keira, a thousand words and feelings flashing between the two elves as his eyes locked with hers.

"Let's get moving." He said, placing the Precursor Stone within the mechanic's backpack and creating a phantom blade from Kitetsu. "We've got a city to save."

* * *

&

* * *

Okay, I sincerely hope this chapter lived up to all of you expectations. If for any reason it has not, please let me know how I might improve so that it does.

And, the scars on Kor's chest will be explained, and I ask that you forgive me if I just insulted your intelligence by you already having figured out who or what gave those little souvenirs to him.

And to clarify something, Cody's accent sounds rather like the Mandalorians from Star Wars (sorta how the clone troopers sound) I regret not being able to give a better discription, but I honestly don't know what kind of accent that is, so feel free to slap me for it. I say that because he will make another apperance in the sequel. (if you happen to know the name of that particular accent, please tell me, thank you.)

Also, get ready to see more of 'Vin' in the next chapters, as he will play a considerably more major role in the defense of Haven City.

That said, I ask that you please let me know what you thought of this chapter, be it in the form of a constructive criticism, a flame, and once again I shall worship those who give me ideas.

Along those lines, I still don't have enough votes to decide whether or not the Light Eco Channeler in the sequel will receive a naginata or a longsword for a weapon, as it currently stands at one vote each. Now, while I'm pretty certain everyone knows what a longsword looks like, if you need a picture of the naginata, head to www. dragonscavern. Com /shop /files /spears /d82. jpg and you will get a very good idea of what one looks like.

That said, I hope you all have a great day, and that I do not somehow get crushed, impaled, or otherwise injured if Hurricane Katrina should decide to drop by and say 'hi' to my neck of the woods.


	31. City under Siege, Part II

Hello everyone, glad to still be here after all that's happened this week with Katrina and whatnot, and relief at still being alive managed to get me to update a little faster than normal.

My particular region of the Florida Panhandle escaped relatively unscathed from the hurricane's wrath, though as you have doubtless seen, New Orleans, Biloxi, Gulfport, and countless other areas have been all but wiped off the map. To anyone who had friends or family in that region, I hope that they are all right, and to everyone else, I humbly ask that you keep them in your prayers and try to help out in any way that you can.

To those of you who were so very kind and review the last chapter:

**Xeno-Freak- **Glad that you got my e-mail, and yeah, Star Craft was a major influence as far as names were concerned (I couldn't really think of any on my own that would do the Precursors justice) and power levels. Let's face it, if the Protoss and the Terrans were to square off for real, that wouldn't be much of a contest. There will also be some influence from Armored Core (with two kinds of 'human sized' A.C.s appeared amongst the death bot ranks, sorta acting like mobile command and control units, not to mention the absolutely devastating firepower they tend to pack). As far as the sequel goes, I had a bit of inspiration over the past week, and I'm thinking about giving Daxter a chance to have a 'Knight in Shinning Armor Moment' between him and Tess, seeing as how much arse his kind can kick. (I'm thinking he'll look good in blue, if you know what I mean). What do you think? Oh yeah, hope to see your story posted soon, I can't wait to start reading it!

**MariaShadow- **Glad you liked the angels I'm taking with the story, and expect to see what becomes of Vin in this chapter, and know that he shall have a major hand in things to come. I haven't figured out what I'm going to do yet as far as Brutter and the Croca Dog are concerned, though, any ideas?

**Philoworm- **Muchas gracias for the power, and after reviewing the votes, I've decided to go with the naginata, so it will be used. And don't worry about the updates, they'll be about a week apart, school permitting. What has me worried is the sequel, as I really don't know where to go in some areas. Its strange really, I've got about the last third (the heavily AU part) ironed out and I know what's going to go down, but it's the beginning that going to give me trouble, particularly with a few regions. So, if you have any more ideas, particularly about missions, let me know, okay? Thanks.

**MewmiC**- You flatter me, cause there are some people out here who can write a whole lot better than I can, Cyrex or Lizzy-Rebel being good examples, so check them out if you get a chance. Thank you for the vote of confidence, however, as they are what help me to overcome massive amounts of self doubt and post these things.

**animedragongirl- **As far as you killing me is concerned, I ask that you please do not, I my body (the one that is being flash cloned for me at the moment) has severe allergic reactions to pain and suffering. Got your vote for the weapons, and I've made up my mind now, so thank you. And thank you once again for taking so much time out of your busy life to proof read my error riddled work, and for helping me with the ending to this chapter. (bows)

**Lunatic Pandora1- **I stand corrected on the mini-gun/vulcan issue, thank you for informing m of my error (bows). And yep, Jak and Praxis will be working together for a little while, before Jak leaves for his inevitable climatic battle with Kor, which will be very much different than it was in the game. Hope you like the chapter, and thanks again for everything.

**DarkStarPhoenix- **To answer your teleportation questions, yes Jak can teleport with others, and as long as he can picture it in his mind (and the target destination is within fifty or so feet) he can move there. However, don't expect to see him make to much use of it, as it is a very draining power. About the glaive, animedragongirl has informed me that they are indeed one in the same, just that a glaive is the western name for it, while a naginata is the eastern one. Hope you like this chapter and please let me know what you think of it.

**Farr2rich- **I am touched that someone such as yourself takes the time to review my amateur work, and I noticed that animedragongirl has taken an interest in your tale as well. Trust me on this one, listen to anything she tells you, she knows what she's talking about. (aside from the errors in your grammar and sentence structures, she thinks your doing well, especially for a first timer) As far as Kor is concerned, no, Jak was not the one to give him those scars (hint, look in the Mar's Tomb Chapter, and you should be able to figure it out) On another note, what did you think about my idea for Daxter in the sequel? Oh yeah, and don't forget to update your own story soon, I want to see what happens next.

**Exardas- **Glad you liked the chapter, and I hope that you enjoyed wherever it was that you were heading. Don't forget to get sleep though, as it is good for your immune system. Expect to see more Praxius Nobelius in this chapter and whatnot, and I do hope that you find it to your liking. (bows)

**Chaoskirina-** Behold, the power of cheese! (sorry, I just had to say that. ;) Thank you so much for the positive input, and though the pole wound up being in favor of the naginata (three to two) I assure you, there will be use of a longsword type weapon among multiple characters, some good, some bad. As far as Light Jak is concerned, well, stick around and you will probably be very surprised when that part is revealed. Thank you once again (bows in humility)

**Light-Eco-Sage- **Sorry to hear about your internet woes once again, do you happen to have some sort of alternate e-mail address that I could reach you at, as there are a few things I'd like to send you to ask your opinion upon. As far as the JxK relationship is concerned, well, let us just say they will be very much closer by the start of the sequel (as in, both parties will be wearing a certain something upon certain fingers) and do not give up hope for N.D. yet, Keira is supposed to be back in Jak X, a playable character no less, so perhaps they will fix things up, as I understand that they got many a flame mail for the ending of the third game.

**To the person who e-mailed me directly**- (didn't want to put your name up, as I know that some people are sensitive about such things) Thank you for your input, and your criticism. My beta reader and I have both checked over this chapter a few times, but if you see anything that we missed, please don't hesitate to point it out so I will know better in the future. Thank you very much for your time. (bows)

To those who read, but did not review, I hope that you have enjoyed this story thus far, and that you continue to read it till the end comes at chapter thirty four.

Lawyers: ye gods, I am getting tired of having to post this, I don't own a darn thing, or else the game would have turned out like this, though sales would have probably been abysmal.

That said, please sit back and enjoy this chapter.

* * *

&

* * *

City under Siege, Part II

The dark elf suddenly realized that everyone was looking to him, even Praxis. They were waiting for him to give the command, to lead them to victory or to their deaths.

"Keir," he asked the mechanic, "you said that your father and the Shadow were standing guard over the rift machine, right?"

"Yeah." She said, double checking her morph gun.

"Then that's our first stop." the Ascended Channeler said, before turning and dashing back the way that they came.

* * *

Vin gently placed the final cyber link against his temple, before hastily entering the commands on his primary computer screen. He paused for a second, shaking his head and composing himself as he struggled to fight back his fear. He would not cower, not this time, there were too many people depending upon him. The sacrifice that he was about to make would ensure the survival of this city, provided that he was successful.

What he was about to do was risky to the point of being insane, as there was no guarantee that this was even going to work.

For the past several years, the elves had been conducting experiments in an attempt to create the first known A.I.C.s, or artificial intelligence constructs. They had met with only limited success, however. They had managed to successfully create a medium for the construct to reside within, as sort of a 'home base', in the form of a highly sophisticated crystalloid memory index, what they lacked was the capacity to get the thing going in the first place. There was a method, but it required the literal downloading of information from a person's brain. This would, at least in theory, result in the artificial intelligence having a similar appearance, knowledge, and personality to its 'creator.' However, numerous tests with kangarats revealed a small problem, the downloading caused massive amounts of neural disruption, which effectively killed the creator. Thus, the project had stalled.

Now, though, with nothing left to lose, and knowing that he himself was not nearly fast enough, and rather vulnerable out here, the best thing to do seemed to be to go ahead. Fortunately, he had managed to locate one of the memory crystals needed for the transfer, and he praised whoever might have been listening that the experiments had been carried out in this very plant.

He ran through the start up programs, and began an interface. He then braced himself for what he knew was coming, and for a brief instant, he wondered if dying like this would hurt very much.

Then it came, a surge of electrical activity as his mind was effectively opened up and picked apart by the interface. He grit his teeth, but could not stop a gasp from escaping from his throat. He felt no pain, just a strange pulsing sensation that seemed to last an eternity.

After about two minutes, it was over, and Vin, his brain ravaged beyond repair, passed from one world and into the next, slumping to the ground as a final breath escaped his lungs.

The blue crystal flashed white for a moment, and then sank down into the console.

Three seconds passed while an entire sixty-year life was sorted and categorized. Then, for the first time in recorded elven history, a self-aware computer came to life.

The construct sorted through 'its' memories for a nanosecond, attempting to discern exactly what it was supposed to do. That accomplished, it sent its consciousness out of the index crystal, zooming through the various circuits and power grids in an attempt to get the automated defenses up and running.

* * *

His morph gun set to shredder mode once again, Torn fired into the midst of a group of Metal Heads. The red beam blew a grunt onto its back, where it twitched out its life, and the resulting spread pattern ripped its companions apart. One Centurion did manage to survive, bringing its energy shield up in time to deflect the beams, but in doing so, it exposed part of its side. Jynx, seeing the opportunity, trained both of his submachine guns upon the creature's exposed side, and promptly opened fire. It gave a surprised screech, and attempted to get its shield around, before the Eco bolts cut it down

They'd been fighting their way towards the Residential Sectors for approximately half an hour, and they were making steady, if stressful progress. They'd suffered causalities, as about seven members of the original thirty that made up the group were now officially deceased. With no time to bury or mourn for their comrades, the Underground soldiers had simply taken their gear and pressed on.

One thing that Torn was grateful for, though, was the Ex-Os. The two Krimzon Guards piloting them had proven to be an invaluable asset. A good example being Benton, who was right now using his termite's jet boosters to charge at a Crab Head. The Metal Head commander growled and leveled its twin blasters, throwing down a hail of fire at the incoming exo-skeleton. However, the three-inch armor plating took the shots and the K.G. corporal leveled his plasma torch as he closed the distance, its end sparking blue-white as it heated up. Too late, the Crab Head realized the danger it was in, as the blazing weapon punched into its chest, melting its armor and burning through its hide like they were nothing, and actually punching out through its back before Benton could stop his forward momentum.

Another Metal Head, a Grunt, attempted to jump up on him, only to meet with the turbo saw on the other arm of the termite. There was a wet tearing sound, and a spattering of dark blood as it was ripped in half by the piece of machinery.

Benton's squad mate was hard at work as well, and many an invading monster met a painful end as it found itself crushed in the titan's merciless grip, or sent sailing through the air, its body broken as the result of a well placed punch.

The backbone of this particular group destroyed, Torn ordered a charge, and the rest were swiftly dealt with. They were getting close to where Ashelin and her own soldiers were, he could feel it, and he only prayed that he got there in time to back them up.

* * *

The construct zoomed around through the ancient and utterly arcane circuitry that made up the components around the shield wall generators. It initiated an interface with the few circuits that were left to connect it to the main grid, and found, much to its relief, that the Metal Heads hadn't destroyed the generators themselves, but rather, the power couplings that connected them with the rest of the energy grid.

Still, that didn't make things any simpler. It still had to figure out how in the name of the Ancients it was going to redirect the power flow through the remaining conduits, as they were not exactly designed with such things in mind.

Still, it had a better chance here than its maker had, as it possessed all of Vin's knowledge, but could move literally millions of times faster than any elf ever could.

In an instant, it put its skills to work, attempting to do a hundred different things at once, from accessing technical data on the previous readouts, to creating, running, and analyzing stress testing simulation programs to see theoretically just how much abuse these remaining conduits could put up with. Then there was also the matter of analyzing the conduits themselves in an attempt to figure out the best way to jury rig them to transfer power like that in the first place.

All of this happened in the space of about ten seconds, a series of tasks that would have taken an organic life form days to accomplish.

Unfortunately, it still had about eleven more to go just to get the shield wall back up and running, and then there was still the matter of the auto defense turrets, and come to think of it, putting a lockdown into effect to try and bottle up their ground based forces didn't sound like such a bad idea, either.

* * *

She leaped into the air as a Crab Head's blasters reduced her cover to glowing shards of metal, her twin pistols flashing as she gunned down Drone, before adjusting her aim in mid jump to target an airborne Wasp that had attached itself to the side of a building. A flurry of Eco bolts came from her handguns, and the winged Metal Head screeched in surprise as the rounds tore through its chitinous armor and send it to Death's domain.

She hit the ground shoulder first, and suddenly felt as if a Wastelander had punched her in the chest. She was quick to realize why: a Centurion had taken notice of her and was attempting to dispose of her, no doubt having realized that she was in charge of this beleaguered group of defenders. Fortunately, the ballistics armor that she was wearing, a gift from Keira, absorbed the bolt, even though the area around where the blast had hit was blackened and slightly cracked.

Realizing that dying would not help those under her command in the slightest, and knowing how well a Centurion's energy shield defended it against blasters, the daughter of Praxis chose to employ a different tactic. She holstered her right pistol, and reached into her belt, yanking a plasmite grenade free. She armed it, and it burst into argent blue flames. Ashelin took careful aim, knowing that the thing was already sighting her up for a second shot, and lobbed the explosive at her assailant.

What happened next was rather funny, as the grenade bounced once, before hitting, and adhering to, the Metal Head's foot. The beast's avian eyes widened in surprise, and it let out a terrified squawk, before the grenade detonated, taking out the Centurion, and one of its fellows that happened to be standing too close to it at the time.

That threat taken care of, she redirected her attention back to the Crab Head, just in time to watch it blow away the cover of three elves. The soldiers joined their protection a few moments later as the twin rapid-fire blasters cut them down without mercy.

"Somebody take that thing out!" she screamed into a mike that was attached to her helmet.

An Underground soldier, a grenade launcher slung underneath his rifle, made a move to comply, before the Metal Head commander fired two bursts at him. However, rather than being slain by the Eco bolts that came forth, the elf, much to his surprise, found himself grabbed by a set of yellow armored arms, and twisted around as a K.G. elite took the shots meant for him. The final round hit upon the commando's back, and the trooper spun back around, and the startled Crab Head got a grenade round right between its eyes. Its headless corpse collapsed to the ground a moment later, shuddering for a moment before going still.

Such moves repeated themselves all over Haven city in this desperate hour, as Underground soldiers, armed civilians, and Krimzon Guard members put aside their own animosities to deal with this common foe. Guards would knock resistance soldiers out of the way of harmful fire, letting their better armor take the brunt of the attacks, and here a rebel officer would unleash the fury of a morph gun RPG launcher to save a group of the red armored guardsmen pinned down by enemy fire.

But to anyone even remotely familiar with Metal Head tactics, these would have been mere stalling measures. The creatures almost always attacked in waves, burying their foes under the sheer numbers they had at their disposal. What Haven's valiant defenders were struggling against was little more than round one.

And Ashelin knew it.

Still, she supposed they would cross that bridge when they came to it. Right now, they had to worry about securing this district. Thankfully, most of the civilians who hadn't grabbed a gun and joined in the defense had been evacuated already, but they still had to drive these guys back before they could do anything else.

And thus, she quickly refocused her attention upon the Hora-quan that were continuing in their attack.

However, even as she brought her twin handguns to bear upon a Grunt, there was a crackling noise that filled her mike, and she caught a faint burst of orders. This was followed by a rhythmic stamping sound. Thus, imagine her surprise when two construction suits came around from the far corner and bulldozed straight into the rear formations of the attackers. Grunts and Drones were crushed underfoot, burned and sliced, or in some cases, reduces to mere smears upon the pavement. Centurions raised their energy shields in vain, as Benton used his Ex-O's turbo saw to devastating effect, while making a mental note to see if there was a way to canonize the person responsible for designing these things.

Torn, Jynx, and the others came in right behind them, their guns ablaze as they performed a flawless hammer and anvil tactic, trapping their foes, who went down quickly under their combined fury.

The battle over for the moment, Torn walked over to where Ashelin was, while Jynx paused to slip his gauntlet vibro blade into a few Metal Heads that he thought he saw twitch.

"Are you okay?" the Revenant asked her as he drew close.

"I'm fine." She said, looking at the large amounts of black carbon scoring upon Torn's gunmetal grey armor. "Are you alright?"

His response was to clap her into a hug that was somewhat awkward, considering the gear he was wearing, but nonetheless managed to answer her question.

"I hate to interrupt this tender moment," came Jynx's cheerful, if slightly tinny voice, courtesy of his speakers, "but there is still a war raging on around us."

The two parted, Ashelin's cheeks having a faint red hue to them, while Torn's was considerably more so, which made him all the more grateful for his helmet. Had it not been there, he was certain that his reputation would have been forever ruined.

"So what now?" the red haired lieutenant asked the two gray armored soldiers, who exchanged glances at each other in turn.

Before they could say anything though, Torn's helmet comm. crackled, and the unmistakable voice of the Shadow came over it, a tone of hastiness to his voice that indicated he was trying to say what he needed and get back to what he was doing.

"Torn, Jynx!" the Underground leader said. "This dried up bag of swamp moss next to me is saying that you guys need to plug this invasion up at its source." There was a grunt, swiftly followed by a pulsing sound and an explosion. "He's saying that they're coming in from the Underport, and he's uploading a map that should take you right to where they're getting in!"

The comm. went silent for a few moments, before a small, three dimensional map appeared in the upper corner of Torn's H.U.D., constantly moving about as it showed the path that they needed to take. Once that happened, the line went dead, and Torn looked over to his brother in arms, who had heard everything.

"Well, leader man," the other Revenant said, "I vote that we do it, and I'm not just saying that 'cause I like to blow things up."

"There wouldn't happen to be an armory station around here, somewhere would there?" Torn asked, looking at Ashelin.

"About half a mile from here," the daughter of Praxis replied with a nod, "there's a security command center that might have what we need."

"Then let's get moving." Jynx said, a bit of excitement in his voice despite the gravity of the situation.

* * *

Another one charged at him, and Samos let out a war cry, before bringing his staff down on top of the thing with a deceptive amount of strength. There was a crack, and the Drone fell to the ground, its skull bashed virtually beyond recognition.

Yet the endless tide of darkness continued to come, spilling into the stadium grounds like hell spawned demons. A token few resistance soldiers who had been on patrol in this sector still stood with them, though gashes and open holes in their makeshift armor and clothing showed where they had been wounded by their foes, but since healed by the two Sages that were at work.

"We can't hold up like this much longer," his younger self said, while hastily erecting a shield around several of their companions, "we need to fall back to a more defensible position!"

"We hold here or all is lost!" Samos shouted back, charging up an energy ball, one of his few offensive skills, and hurling it at a cluster of Grunts that were heading his way.

"What's so important about this thing?" his younger self growled, his voice barely audible above the screams of the Hora-quan and the retaliatory gunfire of the elven forces.

"It's the key to everything." the older Green Eco Sage replied with a grim smile, surprisingly calm all of a sudden. "And don't worry, we'll be getting reinforcements soon enough."

"Reinforcements?" the Shadow said, his voice incredulous as he bashed in the head of another enemy. "Who, from where, and when?"

"You'd never believe me if I told you," Samos grunted as he blocked the strike of an overly zealous Drone with his staff, "and they'll be coming from the south western entrance." he continued, as he spun to the side with agility one would not expect, given his age, and cracked his staff over the metal Head's spine, shattering it. "As far as time is concerned, they'll be arriving," he paused for a moment, and made a motion as if he were looking at a watch, "oh, I'd say right about…"

A quartet of Dark Eco orb suddenly smashed into the enemy ranks, sowing terror and confusion in their wake.

"…now." the old elf said with a smirk.

For a moment, the fighting stopped, and all looked to the direction from which the attack had come. There, his bat-like wings keeping him aloft, was Kage, a transformed Kitetsu hovering at his side. The Dark Eco demon abruptly opened his fanged jaws, and let out a feral scream that caused the lesser Hora-quan to retreat back a few steps, and huddle close to each other, fear as no other overcoming them as the realized that the Angel of Death had officially arrived.

In the blink of an eye, the oni had grabbed the dark katana, created a phantom twin of it, and dove down at the enemy ranks. Those fated to be the first to die by his hand knew only a second's fear, followed by flashes of pain, and then darkness.

And he was not alone, either.

A hail of gunfire erupted from the same place that Kage had made his entrance, and a group of about thirty elves, some more having been picked up along the way, charged in, General Praxis at the head of the formation, his assault rifle blazing. Next to him were Keira, Tess with Daxter upon her shoulder, and Sig who was carefully aiming his vulcan cannon away from where a certain honor bound demon was currently carving up the opposition, and making good use of his tail as well.

Kage brought both of his blades down from above, cutting down a Grunt and a Drone, before whipping the two weapons around to where they were held dagger fighting style. He then thrust both swords into the ground with a roar, and unleashed one of the weapon's abilities. Two trails of Dark Eco slithered across the ground, heading for a pair of Crab Heads, who knew not what to make of this strange phenomenon. At least, the knew not what to think until the two trails reached them and promptly exploded, and even then, they were both dead before they had time to process a last thought.

He then drew them out of the ground, and threw them, smiling grimly as many of the Hora-quan found themselves unable to duck in time, and thus were deprived of a rather essential body part. Not hesitating for a second, the oni then went into a back flip, his triple jointed legs reaching out and grabbing a pair of Centurions that had been paralyzed by fear. It threw them backwards, where they landed in a broken heap, a trampling of about six elves over their bodies ensuring that they were no longer upon this particular coil.

Still in the middle of his acrobatic maneuver, Kage abruptly spun out of the flip, and gave a single, mighty pump of his wings, which propelled him forward. He then angled himself downward, landing and then going down to a kneeling position to absorb the impact of him hitting the ground at such speed. Again, the Dark Eco demon didn't miss a beat, and showed off one of his own innate abilities to clear out the Metal Head surrounding him. He balled his left hand up into a fist, and brought it slamming down onto the pavement. This resulted in a massive semi sphere of Dark Eco enveloping the around himself, which took out a good dozen of the fiends. The oni extended his right hand as well, and a spearhead shaped bolt of dark energy went flying, tearing through no less than eight before it finally dissipated. He then reached up, grabbed both blades, and went back to work, steadily pushing the attackers back towards the northern entrance.

Praxis was also busy, using his powered armor's strength and speed enhancements to charge into the fray. The scarred elf then pulled a leaf from Jak's book, so to speak, tossing his assault rifle and catching it with a single hand, while drawing his large blade, using the artificial strength at his disposal to hold them both with a single hand.

Not giving his enemies a chance to understand what he was about to pull off, the elven general spun around, his blade catching a Grunt in the neck, its sharpened edge biting into it and relieving it of its head. As he finished, he brought up his gun, and fired a six shot burst at a drone that was attempting to flee. He then threw the rifle into the air once more, catching it by the M-404 attachment, cocking the grenade launcher and then releasing his grip upon it, quickly moving his hand back down to the trigger. Angling the weapon carefully, he fired, and sent the plasmite grenade right into another group that was approaching

Keira wasn't far behind, and quickly used her morph gun's sniper rifle to tear the head off of a Crab Head, throwing the group under its command into further chaos, as with all the damage that Kage was unleashing upon them, a strong leadership presence was all that was holding them together. Confused and panicky as they were, they presented easy targets for Sig to rip apart with his vulcan.

The rest of the beleaguered defenders, too tired to really care who it was that was saving their butts, let out a cheer and their own blasters soon joined the fray. Finally, all were dead, and nothing remained except for lots and lots of Metal Head bodies, most of them in small pieces.

Kage was panting, and his wound healing more slowly than they normally did. It was becoming clear to everyone that he was reaching his limits, as was his host.

Fortunately, Samos thought to himself as the creature reverted back to Jak, there would be time for him to rest up and let his body produce more Dark Eco before he had his final confrontation.

A deafening snarl of frustration reached the ears of the old Sage, and he and everyone else looked up to see Kor, some distance off, flying away, having apparently decided to leave the destruction of Haven City to his children, who were doing a fair enough job of it. He scanned the night sky a little bit more, spotting one other thing that stood out, a large balloon like object. It came closer, and a relieved smile made its way to his aging face.

"Right on time." he muttered to where only he could hear.

The strange airship, which turned out to be a Lurker Balloon being piloted by Brutter and a few of his fellows, soon settled down. Before anyone could wonder what in Gaia's name was going on, Samos walked forward.

"Thank you for coming, Brutter." the old elf said with a bow.

"Tis no trouble, Underground gave us much help, we are happy to return the favor." the Lurker said, a toothy grin upon his face. "Where is Precursor artifact you need moved?"

"Right over there." Samos replied with a gesture, pointing to the Rift Rider, where Keira was busy placing the Heart of Mar into place.

A frown came over Brutter's visage, as the Lurker tried to figure out how he and his comrades were going to move the massive device. However, while he was scratching his head, the two Green Eco Sages walked over to the machine, where the elder one paused just long enough to hand something to Jak, and then focused their own energies on it, lifting it about ten feet into the air. Then, walking along side it while everyone else stared open mouthed at the feat, they moved it over to the waiting balloon, and dropped it onboard. Both of them then mounted up, and Samos motioned for his adoptive daughter to join them. With a look at Jak, she reluctantly did so, handing the dark elf her backpack.

"Where are they heading?" Sig asked the dark elf, a look of confusion upon his face.

"Everything depends on them getting that thing to the Metal Head Nest." the Ascended Channeler told the Wastelander, before turning to face him. "That's why you're going with them."

"What?" the armored elf replied in disbelief and horror, looking at Jak as if he'd suddenly gone mad. "You're asking me to run from a perfectly good fight?"

"I'm asking you to watch over them, Sig." Jak replied, his slitted eyes pleading with the Wastelander. "They're all I've got left, please."

"And what about you?" Sig replied, turning his cybernetic red eye upon the dark elf.

"Where I'm going, there's only one gun that can help me," he replied, holding up the sheet of paper that Samos had given him, and he let a half smile come over his face, "and even you can't carry it."

The burly enforcer tried to find a means by which to formulate a reason for him not to go, but found himself unable to. He sighed, and moved over to the others, where he shed the vulcan to let someone else make use of the devastating weapon. He then walked over, and hopped up on the balloon.

Samos, meanwhile, was being his old mysterious self, informing Praxis of where Torn and the others were, and dropping the suggestion that they might be in need of backup. The general, realizing that this would be there one chance to stop the invasion at its source, quickly radioed in for a drop ship to come pick them up. The elder Green Eco Sage then signaled for Brutter and his buddies to get the balloon ship into the air. They were quick to do so, realizing that they were easy targets upon the ground.

As they lifted off, Keira eyes caught his once again, and the dark elf crossed his arms across his chest, letting his fingers rest on the tops of his shoulders. It was a gesture that she returned. It was an age old symbol between the two of them, and promise from him to her that he would come back alive.

"Must be nice floating away while we die down here!" Daxter remarked sourly, yanking him out of his thoughts.

"Sorry, Dax," Jak told his little friend, "but I'm going to need you."

He then shouldered up Keira's backpack, and walked over to Praxis, once more watching the scarred elf to see what to make of him.

He didn't have long though, as the drop ship that Praxis had put in a call for arrived rather quickly. In less than thirty seconds, everyone was loaded up and ready to go. Praxis told the pilot where to head to, and they were off.

* * *

It had gotten six generators back up and running thus far, but time was running out, and it knew it. Pausing for a single cycle, the construct created a subroutine that took in the current known number of military forces, K.G. Underground, and a few extra just in case, and measured them up against the estimated number of the enemy. It wasn't good, but the A.I. still calculated that the defenders of Haven City would hold out against the current number of enemy ground forces, and could even take on the aerial ones that were currently buzzing about. However, should another wave come through that tunnel, or if it failed to get the Shield Wall back up in time, all would be lost.

Even at the current rate, the construct figured casualty counts were going to be up near the scores of thousands, going perhaps as high as sixty percent of the known combat forces not living through the battle.

That was not acceptable. It had to work faster.

Willing its programs and subroutines to increase in speed, it sped towards generator number seven.

* * *

The transport craft came in low and fast, practically skimming the bloodied streets of Haven City. Jak sat in the co-pilot seat, Daxter crouched upon his shoulder. The eyes of the former were closed, and his breathing was deep and even, as the dark elf attempted to regain as much of his powers as he could, knowing that yet another baptism by fire was soon to await him. Daxter, however, stared around, his mouth agape at the destruction that had befallen the Harbor.

Praxis, leaning in-between the two pilot seats of the transport, felt a combination of despair and rage grip him as he gazed out through the canopy window. Slowly, he clenched his right hand into a fist, vowing that this act of aggression would not go unpunished.

He suddenly noticed something, a pair of construct exo-skeletons, the same ones that he had encountered before in the slums, that were standing guard by an old maintenance elevator. The elven general pointed it out to the pilot, who nodded and flew over to the place. With expert skill, the Krimzon Guard killed the forward thrust and kicked the repulsor lifts into hover mode, and then opened the rear hatch. The troops spilled out, and Praxis looked over to Jak.

"Pilot," he said, "come with us."

"Sir?" the man inquired, somewhat confused.

"Head on out with the others, this ship is in his hands now." Praxis said, with a nod to the dark elf.

The man did as he was told, and as Jak plopped himself over into the piloting seat, the scarred elf went to leave. However, when he was about halfway to the back of the ship, he suddenly paused, and turned around to face the renegade…for what he knew, deep down, would be the final time.

"Al…Jak," he said, pausing until the Ascended Channeler had turned around to face him, "for the Precursor's sake, boy…come back alive. And also, wherever they are, they're both proud of you."

The dark elf remained silent for a few seconds, while Daxter simply seemed confused, and Praxis turned back around, before Jak calling his name caused him to pause once again.

"Good luck," the Ascended Channeler said, "you're going to need it."

Praxis simply nodded, a small smile upon his face. He then pivoted about, and walked to the rear hatch of the drop ship, before leaping down to join his men.

Almost as soon as he did, the hatch closed, and the transport craft's engines whined as Jak punched the accelerator, shooting off into the night sky

"Where's he going?" Toshiro inquired, staring at the retreating drop ship.

"He's got a date with destiny." Praxis said, looking around to his troops. "And so do we. Move out!"

The group was on the elevator shaft in no time flat, descending into the bowels of the city, where Haven's fate would be decided.

* * *

A Grunt leapt at him from the side, thinking to catch the Revenant off guard. However, it hadn't realized that the helmet that Torn was wearing came equipped with motion sensors, and rather than the helpless back of an elf, what it got was a vibro-blade to the throat. With a snarl, the gray armored soldier twisted the gauntlet-mounted device, and the sound blade ripped a gapping hole in the Metal Head's neck. The creature fell back to the ground, its head nearly severed from the rest of its body.

The soldier peered about, manually switching his visor over to night vision in an attempt to see if there were any more of the fiends hiding in the shadows of the Underport.

He couldn't find anything, but that did not reassure him in any way. They were approaching the enemy's foothold, their proverbial 'beach head.' This meant that they were likely to encounter even heavier resistance as they pushed deeper and deeper into these catacombs.

And Heaven help them if the Hora-quan decided that it was time to send wave number two through that tunnel.

For a brief instant, Torn let his gaze wander over to Ashelin, who was a few steps to his left. Her jaw was set, her eyes burning with determination, and her stride even and calm. In short, she looked every bit the commander she was born to be. A smile came over his face as he thought of what she meant to him. She was everything to him, he'd already proven that, and he swore that he'd never let himself forget that.

Still, he entertained no delusions, and he knew they were marching straight into the jaws of Death. But, if they went down, if things went awry, he vowed that he would make certain that she was the one to make it back topside.

The same applied to Jynx. His sole remaining comrade from the early days, back before the coup, a man that he'd thought for three long years was dead. Now, as if by a miracle, the brothers were reunited and charging back into battle again. And despite everything that had happened, the pyromaniac still had his old sense of humor about him, even if it could at times be a little morbid.

His brother and love by his side, Torn led them on, as they drew ever closer to the tunnel.

* * *

Their boots thumping as they double-timed it through the twisting passages of this ancient place, Praxis, Tess, and the other K.G. and resistance soldiers raced in a bid against time to catch up with the others. As it was when he had been tailing Jak, the elven general found it rather easy to keep on the right trail, despite the labyrinth around them, one needed only to follow the bodies. Unfortunately, the Metal Heads were not the only ones to litter the corridors. Elves too, lay where they fell, their bodies ripped and torn by claws or slain by blaster fire.

Praxis was unable to stop himself from thinking about who these people might be. There a young man lay, his guts spilling out of his body. Who had this young boy, taken by Death long before he should have been, been in life? Did he have a family? Was there, somewhere out there, a mother or father, with other siblings perhaps, that would pray silently for the safe return of their son or sibling, only to find that their pleas to the heavens had been in vain?

Or perhaps, had his family been one of those that he himself had ordered silenced for their views? Was that what drove him to throw his lot in with the rebels? Was he at long last reunited with them in some paradisiacal after life?

Another Underground soldier, this one a female, lay up ahead, her eyes glassy and lifeless as they stared, unblinking, into the abyss. Questions raced through his mind once again. What drove this girl to fight and lay down her life, was it the love of freedom? Vengeance? What?

Heavens above, how many people like this had he condemned? How many fates had he sealed in his narrow minded belief that he had known what was best for the city?

With a quiet growl, he shook his head. Such musing would not help now, one could not change the past after all. However, he could still change the future.

* * *

They were fully engaged with the enemy now, and the firestorm that was taking place was truly unbelievable, considering the small number of soldiers that were present.

"Okay," Jynx muttered in a morbid tone as he rigged up a Havoc, one of six that he'd scored when they'd raided that armory, "we're underground, up to our armpits in Metal Heads, and I've got another damn tunnel to blow up. This bringing back memories for anyone else?"

"Less talking, more priming!" Ashelin yelled back at him as she gunned down a Grunt that was charging at her.

Off to her side, Torn activated a plasmite grenade before hurling it into the ranks of the enemy. His aim was good as always, and he managed to stick it right onto a Crab Head. The beast gave a single startled cry, before the explosive detonated, ripping it apart. Torn wasted no time using the shredder mode of his morph gun to take advantage of the temporary confusion that followed the Hora-quan commander's death.

Still, they were not all doing as hot as he was. This tunnel that they were in afford them little, as in virtually nothing, to make use of as cover. As a result, they were just like practice targets to the Metal Heads that happened to be armed with ranged weapons. Already, nearly a dozen lay in pools of their own blood, and the number was growing fast. And Jynx figured it would take him at least three more minutes to get the rest of the Havocs up and ready to blow.

Torn suddenly realized that they weren't going to make it, they were losing too many, too fast.

It was then that a miracle occurred.

* * *

The construct was on its way to generator number nine when it suddenly became aware of something else within the vicinity of its presence. Pausing for a split second, it searched around the unfamiliar circuits until it at last spotted what it had gotten its attention. It was an odd looking device, but it appeared to be a security camera of some sorts.

Had it possessed eyes at that particular moment, they would have bulged outward in disbelief at what it observed.

A group of elven forces, resistance members and a few K.G. elites by the look of them, were trying to bring down a tunnel, and on the other side of it were legions upon legions of Metal Heads. Instantly, the A.I. realized that the means that the Hora-quan had used to get into the city was right in front of it. It also calculated that the elves trying to stop them were all going to be blasted into next world approximately twenty five and a half seconds prior to the completion of their job.

Frantically, it looked about, trying to find some means to even things up. What it did find surprised it. It felt something, and 'peering about' realized that it was receiving handshake signals from some strange power units. Upon further investigation, it realized what they were: security guns.

In that single moment of time, the A.I. dedicated every last bit of its processing capabilities towards getting those auto guns online. Billions of functions a second were carried out as it attempted to connect and interface with the foreign circuitry. It took it fifteen seconds, a proverbial lifetime for something that was capable of moving as fast as it was, but it got them working.

* * *

There was a strange whirring and clicking noise that seemed to emanate from all around, loud enough to be heard over the din of the fighting. Then, the elves watched as parts of the wall slipped away, and out popped some rather strange looking blaster turrets. Immediately, they sighted up the Hora-quan that were closest to their sensors, and opened up.

Multi colored bolts of Eco suddenly filled the small tunnel. And Torn, as observant as ever, noticed something odd about these weapons. The bolts seemed to do far less damage on the whole as compared to what he and his fellows had at their disposal, for which the guns attempted to compensate for by having an extremely high rate of fire. However, what they might have lacked in stopping power, they more than made up for in their penetration capabilities.

He watched, awestruck, as two of the auto guns focused upon the same Crab Head, and their rounds shredded its armor, and were soon tearing through flesh.

Then, _even_ more reinforcements arrived.

A sniper bolt zipped its way past his helmet, dropping a Grunt that had been leaping towards Ashelin. The creature fell, its face twisted into a mask of surprise, a hole now neatly burned into the center of its forehead.

It was soon to be followed by a plasmite grenade and a high pitched noise that Torn had come to associate with the vulcan that Keira had created. The Revenant took a risk, and stared over his shoulder to watch Praxis and some of his elites, with a few K.G. regulars and Underground mixed in among them, coming down the passage with guns blazing.

Not pausing to wonder at the irony of the given situation, Torn returned his attention to gunning down his adversaries until, a hectic two minutes later, Jynx reported that he was all done and that they needed to pull back.

Their guns still laying down fire, they did so, retreating back into the labyrinth as the pyromaniac got out the detonator and pressed the two thumb buttons, before pulling the trigger, all the while silently praying he didn't cause some sort of cataclysmic city wide collapse.

The bombs detonated, and the tunnel collapsed, effectively sealing Haven city off to the rest of the Metal Heads. The aerial ones could still get through, but for now, everyone was certain that they would at least be able to hold out against the threat.

Unknown to them, the construct had just gotten another generator up and running, and was on its way to the next.

* * *

It was almost half an hour later when they managed to get back up to the main Harbor area. Once there, they were swift to plot out their next move.

"So where to we head from here?" Ashelin inquired, looking over to her father, who seemed more at peace now than she'd seen him since before the disastrous attack on the nest those years ago.

"We're getting calls for air and armor support from all over the city." The black armored general replied, looking around, his gaze settling upon the two revenants, both of whom were looking at him with suspicion, and he honestly couldn't blame them. "And I think I know how we might be able to help them out." He said, before motioning for Commander Toshiro to come over next to him.

The yellow armored officer did so, and with drew his comm. unit at the same time, bringing up a holographic map of Haven City, complete with a flashing red arrow that was pointing at the Harbor and had the ever famous 'you are here' text written above it.

"Not long ago," Praxis began, "our engineers finally finished some prototype Hellcats. They've got a newer type of repulsor lift allowing for better maneuvering, something we decided we needed after loosing so many to your raids." He said, giving a grim smile in Torn's direction. "We've got a little more than a dozen of them sitting in a hanger here." the general said, pointing to a large building in the northern area of the Industrial Sector. "But the piloting teams that we dispatched never made it."

"So the plan's to fight our way to the hanger, get the new Hellcats in the air, and then deal with the enemy from there." Jynx inquired, his glowing blue visor facing Praxis.

"Pretty much." the scarred elf replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Then let's move out." His daughter said, her voice grim and determined.

* * *

Finally, this was the last power generator. Once this was done, it could hurry up and get a move on getting the automatic defense turrets up and a running.

With those thoughts running through it, it began the interfacing process.

* * *

Unfortunately, luck was not with everyone that night. As Torn, Ashelin, and the others fought their way to the hangar where the prototype gunships were stored away, the Grim Reaper came to collect someone.

Benton's termite was down on its back, the K.G. inside of it panting loudly. The exo-skeleton had been knocked down when a Guardian had landed in front of the group, and in the small street they were on, the use of its Dark Eco breath weapon would have been absolutely devastating. However, the corporal had jetted forward, slamming his mech's plasma torch into the things head, while simultaneously inserting the turbo saw on the other arm into its mouth. The end result hadn't been pretty, but it had been lethal.

The death throes of the thing had knocked the mech aside, and now the corporal was simply thanking the Ancients that he was still alive.

"Good work, son," Praxis said, coming up next to him, "if we live through this, you might get a medal for that."

"I'd settle for a new pair of pants, Sir." The K.G. soldier replied in a shaky voice.

Praxis chuckled, but then a chill came over him, that feeling that something wrong. He scanned about, and then he saw what had made him so uneasy, and felt horror clutch at his heart.

Ashelin was standing off to one side of the little group, leaning one hand against the side of a building as she tried to catch her breath. And behind her, were the strange liquid distortions that indicated an active camouflage generator was in use.

The elven general shouted a warning, and sprinted forward, willing himself to move faster. His daughter looked over her shoulder, and saw the Cloaker, and the distortions of its blade as it lunged at her.

Torn, hearing the commotion, turned, and gasped in fear.

There was the sound of sheering armor, followed by a groan of pain as the weapon sank into flesh.

Ashelin looked up from her prone position upon the street to find the blade sticking out of her father's gut. Praxis simply snarled, despite the obvious pain that he was in, and balled up a fist, before driving it into the Cloaker's face, smashing it in and effectively killing the Metal Head. He then collapsed to his knees, and slumped against the building. With a grunt, he ripped the weapon from his gut, the dark color of his armor hiding the blood that was seeping out of the gapping hole in his stomach.

Faintly, from somewhere in the background, the red haired lieutenant heard Torn shout a warning, and those who had infrared visors immediately pulled them down. Heat seeing as they were, it was only a few seconds before the Cloaker's two comrades were located and dispatched.

She paid them no mind, and simply scrambled over to where her old man lay. Forgotten was all that he had done, gone were the memories of all the crimes he had committed. She saw before her only her father, and the knowledge that he was dying screaming through her mind.

His breath came in deep gasps as he instinctively struggled to stay alive. His eye was closed, and it took her three tries to get him to open it. The eye darted about for a moment, before focusing on her. A faint smile made its way over his mangled visage, and he reached out, gently caressing her face.

"Ashelin…" he said, his voice weak, before a coughing fit overtook him. His daughter opened her mouth to tell him to not talk, but he cut her off.

He knew he was dying, and he would not allow her to disgrace that, however unintentionally, with meaningless lies about him going to be all right.

"I want you to know…" he said, drawing in a gasp, "that I'm proud of you…and I'm sorry, for not being the father that I should have been."

She threw herself around him, not caring a bit for the large amounts of blood that she was getting on herself. Torn came over, thinking to pull her away. However, he got a surprise when Praxis motioned for him to come a bit closer. His daughter sobbing into his chest, he had the gray armored soldier lean in close, and then whispered to where only he could hear him.

"I want you to make certain she doesn't get herself hurt, Torn." the dying elf gasped. "And I swear, on the graves of my forefathers, if you do _anything_ to cause her grief, your ass is haunted! Do you understand me?"

The Revenant nodded somberly, and Praxis let a calm smile come to his face. He carefully stroked his daughter's hair, before the light in his eye went out, and his hands slumped to the ground.

Torn stood back up, and felt himself living up to his name in his regards for the dead elf. What should he feel? A part of him felt a tad bit triumphant over the death of the man who had destroyed his brothers and sisters, but at the same time, he felt an undeniable amount of sorrow, for the loss of the soldier who he had once fought alongside of, and whom he had grimly respected.

In the end, he simply did what came to mind first. He looked down at the body of General Geoffrey Praxis, and gave him a salute.

That done, he bent down to get Ashelin back up on her feet.

Reluctantly, she let go, still sobbing as Torn put a comforting hand on her shoulder. She forced herself to stop crying hysterically, and began to give orders, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, breath hitching every so often as the tears continued to fall.

* * *

&

* * *

And thus, Praxis meets his end, in a considerably better way than he did in the game.

I hope that everyone enjoyed the chapter, blood, gore, and everything else involved. That said, I am in need of ideas for missions in the sequel, so please let me know if you have any in regards to that. Also, ideas for weapons will also be appreciated, as there will be many in the next story as well.

So please, let me know what you think, be it critiscm, flame, idea, or anything else along that nature, as all authors like to know how their work is going over with the readers.

And, as I said before, please remember to help those in need and keep Katrina's victims in your prayers. Along those lines, if anyone is looking for a place to donate, www deviantart .com has set up some links to charities and funds that are going to be used to help those who have been hurt in the disaster, as well as lists of high priority items, so you can go there if you need some ideas of what is needed.

Thank you, and have a great day.


	32. Full Circle

(Floats out, body whole for the first time in months)

Hello everyone, hope you're having a great Friday. Well, it's been a week, and here's my delivery to you, may you enjoy it. AS for me, well, this recently flash cloned body that I've acquired is wonderful, if pricy. Now, I can finally do all the things I could before I was nuked into a pile of radioactive dust! (Yes, I am insane if anyone was wondering.)

Once again, special thanks to **animedragongirl** for beta reading this thing and catching the errors my obsolete W.P. does not.

To those of you who were so kind and left me your reviews:

**Lunatic Pandora1- **Thank you so much for the nanite blade idea, as it spawned a way for me to explain more about Kitetsu in the sequel, as well as Mar's Armor and Precursor equipment in general. As far as a lightsaber, is concerned, that's pretty much what the phantom copies of Kitetsu that Jak keeps creating from the original. As for Praxis, in hindsight I think he might have died a bit too quickly, thank you for pointing that out.

**MariaShadow- **Glad you liked the last chapter, but I am afraid you are going to have to wait just a might bit longer for the climatic showdown, as this leads up to it. However, id you have any suggestions or things that you would like to see in the final battle, pelase let me know. Thank you.

**Exardas- **Yeah, I was thinking about calling the showdown chapter 'Endgame' and I think that's what I'm going to go with now, thanks for helping out there. About the sequel, Jak will be thrown out the same way, and Damas (who will be altered just slightly in appearance so Jak will not recognize him) will indeed recognize his old blade, and temporarily relieve Jak of it, however, he gets it back in the first arena battle, in a manner that startles everyone not familiar with him.

**PhiloWorm- **Was thinking about an idea like that, except in involved more Channelers. The way it would work would be basically that in some of the rest of the world, Channelers are feared and reviled by the rest of society because the Metal Heads have this tendency to raze towns to the ground to try to find them. As a result there is a small community of about a hundred or so of them in hiding somewhere. As for the character, sure, let me know, as I need a 'Leader' for them.

**SRHumphrey727- **Thank you for your input, and I hope I pulled of the tearful death scene okay. You mentioned something about an e-mail, though, but I never received it, and I think it might be because my hotmail has been getting spammed of late, and I turned up the junkmail folder. I've tweaked it since then, so if you could resend it I should get it this time. Thanks.

**Evil Manic- **Thanks for the guns and whatnot. As for the Dark Eco Mist, that's sorta what Jak unleashed in Chapter Thirty. As for the spear thingy, that sounds like an alternate use for the Revenant's grappling hook (grins maniacally) and I thank you for that. Rest assured, there will also be flamethrowers used by one of the deathbot units, and that ripper seems to me that it would make a good Wastelander vehicle weapon. I'm also glad that you liked the chapter, and I hope you enjoy this one just as much.

**Jetrex12- **Glad you liked the chapter. As for the Light Eco User, I have been trying to think of something along those lines, but I can't seem to think of anything that would seem like a realistic improvement, any suggestions? As to your other question, yes, Veger will be dealt with in several ways that will be significantly more painful than what happened in the game. (For example, prior to Jak being hauled off, our 'friend' the count will make a comment about him in Keira that causes the mechanic to mangle him quite thoroughly and possibly cripple him for life when it comes to a certain body region)

**DarkStarPhoenix- **Thank you very much for the zoomer info, and for the mission idea. And Kage will be doing quite a bit of flying (such as in the glider mission, and to reach some out of the way areas, not to mention dive bombing in to save the day upon the return to Haven City. Hope you like this chapter too, I explain what the Channelers really are…and hopefully it isn't too cliché.

**Farr2rich- **Actually, I already thought of how the controls could be. During the first part they would be like they were normally, however, once Jak begins unlocking Channeling powers and using melee, I figured you could select which ability you had active via a R1 menu (kinda like Zone of the Enders) and different melee moves would be performed based upon the timing of the attack button (like Devil May Cry 3). As for the fight to the Metal Head Nest, there won't be very much, simply because their almost fully engaged at Haven City, but the battle between Jak and Kor is going to be big…trust me.

**animedragongirl- **Thank you for drawing the pics in the first place. (bows). As for the Light Eco User, read the part where Kor is talking at the construction sight very carefully, he points the person out with his language. I don't have an idea for the Ascended Form yet, though, any ideas? And thanks for the city name as well.

**Light-Eco-Sage- **Yes, they will be married by the start of the sequel, you may rejoice. As far as your internet is concerned, have you tried setting up a hotmail account at school or the like, they're free and generally reliable. And I hope you get your internet back up soon, too, as I want to see any updates for your stories that you've been working on in the meanwhile. Hope you like this chapter, and please let me know of any ideas that you have, thanks. (bows)

**GoodMorningBeautiful2005- **Glad you liked Praxis' end, and I assure you, there will be a sequel that I'll hopefully start posting within a month of the end of this story, Heaven willing. Hope you like this chapter too, and please let me know what you think.

To those of you who read but did not review, I hope that you have enjoyed it thus far, and that I have not somehow managed to traumatize you.

To all lawyers (who are so lame as to be cruising through here looking for lawsuits): I no own, if you do not realize this by now, you are in the wrong field, so go back to school and become something more productive.

Now, Here is the third to the last chapter, may it be worth your while.

* * *

&

* * *

Full Circle

About one hundred miles east of Haven City was a most peculiar object. Those not familiar with the region would no doubt wonder why in the world there seemed to be a massive, cannon like structure sitting on top of a cliff in a grassland area, its muzzle pointed towards a far off peak.

What they would not realize, was that that particular peak was the home of a rather nasty group of artificially created life forms, and that the strange weapon, nicknamed 'Mar's Gun,' had been designed, supposedly with help from the mysterious 'Praetor,' to crack the Metal Head Nest open like it was a nut.

A drop ship was currently on an autopilot approach, the dark elf inside it now realizing what its mysterious power source was, as that was supposedly the reason that Mar had never fired it.

However, Jak was not aware of how close they were, as his eyes were closed, and his breathing deep and even. He sat upon his knees, his hands cupped as he meditated, trying to will his body to restore its dark power faster. The knowledge of where they were, and whether or not any hostiles were approaching was a job that fell to Daxter, who had apparently been able to overcome his temptation to just start randomly pushing things once he'd sat down in the pilot's seat.

Hopping up and out of the seat, the Ottsel scampered over to Jak, shaking the Ascended Channeler out of his reverie. With a groan, he rose, stretching and working the kinks out of his body.

'**_Now I see how such devastation could be wrought by a single weapon.' _**Kage rumbled inside of his mind as he stared out of the window, Mar's Gun practically filling it even though a full mile separated them from it.

'_No kidding.' _was Jak's reply, as he too stared in awe at the massive cannon.

The transport craft touched down, and Jak opened the rear hatch, stepping out into the open air.

"Well," he remarked out loud, staring around and shouldering Keira's backpack, "this was a really great idea."

* * *

Meanwhile, back in Haven City, Ashelin and company were fighting their way towards the hanger in which the prototype Hellcats were being held. Praxis' body had been stashed in a dumpster, something that his daughter had been mortified over initially, but had soon realized was better than leaving his corpse out to be chewed up by ravenous Grunts and Drones.

Shortly thereafter, her sorrow had turned to fury, and her twin handguns flashed as they struck down Metal Head after Metal Head, with Torn frantically trying to keep her in check, lest she get herself killed in some sort of berserker rush.

Thankfully, while she was still somewhere between homicidally pissed and mad as the hells, she was no longer suicidal in her rage. Jynx had been the one to pull her out of it, stating that she would have some problems avenging her old man if she was dead as well. Now she was once again the cool and calm commander who was holding everything together. She understood that there would be time to mourn for the loss of her father, but it was not now, neither was the setting exactly the most appropriate.

Tess advanced forward, her submachine gun firing in short, rapid bursts into the ranks of an enemy group, while Benton activated his termite's boosters, jetting towards a Crab Head with the intent of running it through with his Ex-Os plasma torch. Jynx was busy too, unleashing the fury of his morph gun and his DC-17 upon anything unlucky enough to catch his attention.

Between them all, this group of hostiles was dealt with swiftly enough. However, there was some radio chatter that soon came over their comms., and Jynx instantly recognized whose voice was behind the frantic call for help. Without waiting for the others, he tore off in the direction of the signal, about a quarter mile from their current location.

"Jynx!" Torn called out, but the other Revenant paid him no heed.

With a swear, Ashelin and the others took off after him, praying that the gray armored warrior wasn't about to do something stupid.

Fortunately, the resistance that they encountered as they tailed the pyromaniac was weak to say the least, a few solitary Grunts or Drones that had gotten separated from the rest of their groups, and up against the twenty five odd elves in this squad, they were disposed of with merciful swiftness.

That all changed once they arrived at the area where the call had come from. No less than a hundred Metal Heads swarmed the area, rushing at a barricade that had been hastily erected around the lobby of a fancy apartment complex.

Without hesitation, the two construct Ex-Os engaged their boosters and jetting into the sector, crushing and slicing through their opposition. Jynx, practically frantic by this time, made a bee line for the lobby area, his two submachine guns gunning down those Metal Heads foolish enough to try and take the Revenant on in combat.

Torn, Ashelin, and Tess were right behind him, their respective weapons cutting a bloody swath through the Hora-quan as they tried to bring the situation under control.

Off in the far corner of the square, Torn noticed another Crab Head bringing its group in to beef up the Metal Head presence. However, he couldn't worry about them now, as his shredder lacked the range required to do so.

With a rolling dive to avoid fire from one of the Metal Head commanders, Jynx flung himself behind a dura-crete incased flower bed, before belly crawling over to where the other elves were.

Grim and Mog were there among the defenders, the former of which was favoring his left arm, which had a makeshift bandage wrapped around it. His younger brother had stuck a large repeating blaster above his head and over a similar flower bed type structure, firing indiscriminately at whatever was on the other side.

"You might want to tell him to stop doing that." Jynx said, getting a shocked look from both siblings, as they'd never even heard him approach. "There are friendlies out there now."

With a battle cry, the Revenant popped up from behind his cover, laying down precision fire upon his foes. Unconsciously, he thought back to three and a half years ago, when he and fifteen brothers and sisters had leapt into the jaws of Hell, and how half of them had never returned. This fight, this battle to protect Haven City, it was for them. He fought for Anton, for Samantha, for Damas, for everyone else that had given their lives that day in defense of the city.

Torn was thinking along much the same lines, and unleashed his shredder upon them, while not to far off, Toshiro made use of his marksman skills to relieve the Crab Heads of their command, while another K.G. commando opened up with the vulcan that Sig had entrusted him with. However, as the elf had found out earlier, he wasn't nearly as strong as the massive Wastelander had been, and as a result, found himself having to set his feet and struggle with all of his might to keep the recoil factor under control. This prevented him from being able to shoot on the move like Sig had been able to.

However, with its enormous rate of fire, it wasn't like a whole lot of things could actually live long enough to take advantage of that fact.

Thus, with all of this firepower, things were quickly brought under control.

"Looks like we owe you another one," Grim said to his old friend, looking rather haggard.

"Don't mention it." Jynx remarked, as he stared about at the utter devastation. "But I really don't think this is much of a defensible position anymore."

"Agreed." Ashelin said as she walked over. "And we need more people to man the Hellcats, so it looks like you guys are coming with us."

They nodded and there was a chorus of 'yes ma'ams' from the defenders, before they fell into ranks along with the others.

* * *

Before long, they reached the hangar, and sure enough, about fifteen sleek and shinning Hellcat cruisers were sitting in it, waiting to be brought up into the air. Orders were shouted and the intermingling Underground and Krimzon Guard forces scrambled to the gunships, running through preflight checks and take off protocols.

Ashelin, Torn, and Tess all piled into a single craft. The red haired lieutenant took the piloting seat, while the Revenant to her side manned the point defense cannons. Tess slipped behind them and climbed up into the quad blaster turret, where she quickly warmed up the primary anti-air weapon.

Torn looked to his left, and saw his brother in arms clambering into the piloting seat of another Hellcat. He saluted Jynx, who returned the gesture as Mog and Grim got themselves situated as well.

On the other side of the hangar, Benton and his squad mate finally ditched their construction exo-skeletons, as the frames had taken about all the abuse that they could, and were about to fall apart. Then they too, made a made dash for one of the gunships.

Before two minutes had passed, the whole fleet was airborne, and splitting off into groups of threes to answer the flooding calls for air support.

* * *

The elevator carried the two of them upwards, and the dark elf looked out as they rose hundreds of feet into the air. Daxter, merely looked down, before gulping and getting as close to the central part of the elevator as he could. Still, he tried to look on the bright side, in the event that he did fall, Jak would be able to let Kage take over and catch him, and for that matter, at least there was no Dark Eco to fall into this time around.

His thoughts were interrupted as the lift suddenly came to a halt with a lurch. The two companions stepped off the elevator and onto a catwalk. Jak looked about, and quickly located what appeared to be a covered control console of some sort. The Ascended Channeler hurriedly walked over to the control station, and typed a few commands in on the keyboard that was sheltered and out of the elements.

The screen suddenly blazed to life, and several Precursean runes flashed on it. Instantly, Jak translated the script.

It was telling him to insert a power source.

The dark elf ducked back outside, and upon locating a likely slot, withdrew and inserted the Precursor Stone into it. It shined for a brief moment, before turning a strange blackish purple color. Jak backed away, afraid for a moment that he had done something wrong. However, as the massive cannon hummed and more things on it started flashing, he realized that it was ready to fire.

There was a beeping sound coming from his utility belt, and he realized that his comm. was going off. He quickly reached down and grabbed it activating it in the process.

It was Ashelin, and the news from the city wasn't good.

"We've sealed off their ground forces, but we're still getting pummeled from the air." The daughter of Praxis told him. "This is turning into a lost cause, Jak. You should just link back up with Keira, take that Rift Rider thing, and get out of this hell."

"This 'hell' is my home, Ashelin," he growled as he walked back towards the control center of the cannon, "and its worth fighting for."

The red haired lieutenant sounded as if she was going to make some sort of reply, before a burst of chatter came form her end of the line, and she abruptly killed the signal.

Jak, somewhat worried but knowing that he really couldn't do much to help them from way out here, turned his attention back to the control console, whose screen now showed exactly where the gun was aiming. Jak made a few minor corrections, and then smiled wickedly to himself.

"Stone…Gun…Nest." He growled, pressing the large button clearly marked 'Fire.'

"Ha, ha, light er up, padre!" Daxter said, rubbing his hands together as he found another perch on Jak's shoulder.

"Knock, knock." The dark elf said with a devilish laugh.

'**_Indeed, I suspect this will be quite the rude awakening.' _**Kage said, and Jak could tell that the oni had a fanged grin upon his visage.

A whine came from the skyscraper sized weapon, and a vibration shook the whole area as the relic finally began to fulfill its purpose. And then, it happened.

A massive, multi colored beam shot out of the end of cannon, streaking towards the Metal Head Nest at incredible speed. Jak, watching the vid screen in front of him, watched it connect about six seconds later, and blow a gapping hole in the nest.

"Whoa." Daxter replied, his eyes practically doubling in size. "You reckon that woke them up?"

'**_If Kor did not know that we were coming before,' _**Kage rumbled, rubbing his chin within the dark elf's mind, **_'then he most certainly does now.'_**

'_Yep, so much for the quiet approach.'_ Jak concurred in a cheerful tone.

"Well," he remarked aloud, cracking his knuckles, "let's go take care of business."

* * *

Even though Mar's Gun was a good hundred and fifty miles away from Haven City, Torn and company still saw the flash and the massive beam that streaked towards its unmistakable target.

For a moment, no one could think of anything to say, until Ashelin suddenly keyed open the comm. system of the Hellcat.

"All aerial combat units able to hear this message, home in on our position and do it fast." She growled in an authoritative voice. "The enemy's back door just got unlocked."

With Jynx forming up on their left wing, and several more joining them as they streaked over the city, the group prepared themselves for a daring, and likely, suicidal attack run.

* * *

Jak hopped off the rear hatch of the drop ship, looking around at the canyon system that led to the Metal Head Nest.

Wordlessly, he began to walk towards his destination, and he found himself gazing, and recalling bits and pieces of what Torn had told him had happened here those years ago.

Though the flesh had long since rotted from their bones, the remains of elves littered the canyons, patches of dark red armor, with a splash of blue intermingled among them, indicating where each and every elf had left this mortal coil in agony. Here too, were the remnants of burned out scorpion assault tanks, and craters that indicated where a Hellcat had gone down, their crews fighting to the bitter end.

And somewhere out here, in this gods forsaken wasteland, lay the corpse of Damas…

That thought nearly brought tears to his eyes. Nearly being the key phrase. There would be a time for mourning, and then the tears could flow, but it was not now. Now, he had to finish what had been started so long ago.

And so, with grim determination, he marched forward, heading towards a confrontation that he knew would make his showdown with Gol and Maia look like a cakewalk.

Still, both he and Kage were grateful for the attack in a strange way, as it meant that most of the Metal Head forces were engaged in the battle for Haven City, leaving their own home base relatively unguarded. In fact, he was within one kilometer of the nest before he encountered anything resembling resistance.

* * *

His eyes closed, Kor exhaled deeply, letting his senses permeate the area around the Nest. He did his best to choke back a growl of anger as he sensed the death of more of his children. These ones, though, were not passing on in the city, these ones were dying here, at the hands of that damnable freak of nature who was currently tearing his was towards the nest like some force of nature.

He felt another group lose contact with him, and this time he did not bother to try and keep his rage bottled up, and a snarl left his fangs that would have sent any sane elf running for the hills.

Never in his eon long life, would he, the great Hora-quan Overmind, have ever believed that the descendant of one of his enemies' bastard offspring would have ever poised this much of a threat to his forces on his own. He knew what Channelers were capable of doing en mass, which was why he had struggled so hard to bring them down, to kill them before they could become a threat.

But Jak…he was an anomaly, something that hadn't been figured into his calculations. He knew that mutations sometimes occurred within the Channelers, that their genetic code, which was something of a natural impossibility unto itself, would sometimes change. But he would have never thought that they could become as dangerous as that.

Still, considering who he was descended from, it was a factor he that he realized he should have taken into account.

Still, simply because Jak could slay his children with such ruthless efficiency did not mean that he himself would fall. After all, how many Precursors had he forced Death to come and collect? Even their mightiest warrior, touted for so long as their champion, had fallen before him, granted, he'd never expected that they'd go to such lengths to keep that miserable Reaver 'alive.'

He felt more of his children die, and he bared his fangs again as he felt Jak continue. The elf cut the Hora-quan that challenged him down like they were nothing, decapitating them, gutting them, bisecting them, or in some cases, merely blasting them into oblivion.

The minutes drew on, and dozens fell. For a moment, Kor regretting not keeping more of his forces here, but he forced himself to push that thought aside as the dark elf drew closer.

* * *

They streaked towards the nest, all twelve of the gunships in a maneuverable attack formation. From his position in the copilot/point defense seat, Torn looked over to his right, where Ashelin sat at the controls, a small covering of sweat giving her skin a bright sheen. Unconsciously, the red haired lieutenant stuck out her tongue and licked her lips, before swallowing in an attempt to get some moisture back into her throat.

Her father's death was still in the back of her mind, but she supposed, that maybe he had at last found peace in death that he'd never been able to get in life. He'd tried to fix things back the way they were, redeem himself, so to speak, and maybe, just maybe, his actions had spoken well enough for him.

She knew one thing, Jak was right, this hell was worth fighting for, though she was a bit confused by what he had meant when he'd said it was his home, as he'd thus far vehemently proclaimed himself to not be a Haven City native.

Still, that was something she'd only be able to ask him about if they lived through this suicide attack. The daughter of Praxis only prayed that they succeeded. If Kor died…if the Hora-quan Overmind was slain, then his vile children would be without a leader, or a means by which to propagate themselves.

It was Haven's only hope in the long run.

Torn, ever watchful, knew how nervous that she was right now, and how nervous he himself was too. Almost without thinking, he let his gaze turn left, and he saw Jynx on his wing, realizing that his brother in arms must have felt much the same way. He also didn't need to ask Tess how she was doing up in the quad blaster turret.

He needed to calm down, to relax, somehow, or he was going to burn himself out before they even got close, which wouldn't be good.

Abruptly, he remembered something from his training. It had been one of the first things that Walon had taught him and the other Deltas. Some decades back, a foreigner from a small country known as Cardon had been taken into the ranks of the elite soldiers, and had brought with him something from the old country. It had been an old warrior battle hymn that his people had carried in their hearts when going into combat, and it had pretty much been adopted as the unofficial 'motto' of the elite groups. Silently, the Revenant opened up a comm. link with the other ships, and opening his mouth, felt the words come forth as easily as they had the last time he'd sung them, those years ago when the squads had still been whole.

"Kandosii sa ka'rta, Vode an." he began, pausing for a moment.

Sure enough, Jynx picked up right behind him

"Haveanta a'den mhi, Vode an." the pyromaniac answered in return, before they continued on together.

"Bal kote, darasuum kote," they said, and Torn noticed that Ashelin was watching him out of the corner of her eye, no doubt having never heard this before.

"Jorso'ran kando a tome." the two brothers continued, their voices building in intensity until they reached the final line.

"Sa kyr'am Nau tracyn kad, Gra'tua cuun hett su dralshy'a!" they practically thundered, before suddenly becoming much quieter, finishing the chant with two words. "Vode an."

It was then, that something unexplainable happened. Torn and Jynx, both of them felt a familiar presence around themselves, a feeling that hadn't been with them since the coup. It was almost as if they somehow knew that the spirits of their fallen brothers and sisters were watching over them.

The others felt it too, and a noticeable calm came over everyone as they realized that they were not alone.

And so they continued onward, the Metal Head Nest growing ever larger on the horizon.

* * *

Finally, the last generator was back up and running. It had been the trickiest of the lot, and if the construct had been capable of breathing a sigh of relief, it would have done so. However, it had no time to sit back and congratulate itself, as there was still the matter of the auto turrets to deal with.

* * *

Full of purpose, and his blade stained in the blood of scores of kills, Jak, Daxter at his heels, entered the shattered Metal Head Nest.

A token few of the small, leaping variety of Hora-quan, Mantises, if he recalled correctly, jumped out at him, their scythe-like front limbs poised to tear at his flesh.

But, fast as they were, they were not the greatest subspecies for taking punishment, and Jak's reflexes were beyond what even they were capable of.

The pieces of them fell to the ground, hitting upon the strange floor of the Nest. Although, he did sense that a few of them had a higher than normal concentration of Dark Eco inside of them, and those were knocked to the ground with his fists, so that Kitetsu could better quench its thirst, and be more prepared for the battle that lay before him.

Nothing else leaped out of the shadows to challenge him, though Kage kept his senses up, wary for anything.

Soon enough, they made their way through the place to where the central pit was, as most of the maze-like tunnels had been eradicated when the cannon blast had hit.

Within the massive central chamber, Kor hung from the ceiling. In front of him, entrapped in some sphere of dark energy, was Alex, apparently out cold. Suddenly, the Metal Head Leader exhaled, and opened his eyes.

"So, you have come, Jak." He rumbled, his glowing yellow eyes boring into the Ascended Channeler. "And at last, events have come full circle."

"Then you're prepared to die?" Jak returned with equal vehemence. "'Cause I'm going to enjoy killing you, Kor, I don't take kindly to being used."

"But you've been used your whole life, Jak." the Hora-quan Overmind stated casually. "Samos used you to open the Tomb of Mar, so the Underground could get its hands upon the Precursor Stone." he paused, and Jak didn't even bat an eye, though Daxter suddenly was looking back and forth between his friend and the massive Metal Head in the center of the room, a confused expression upon his face. "Praxis attempted to turn you into a bio weapon, to be unleashed upon me and my children. Hell, Jak, even Onin used you, hiding your younger self away from me in the past in the hopes that you would gain the skills needed to face me here today, and failing that, informing Praxis of when you would be coming back, and letting him know what you might become!"

"I, am not, a pawn!" the dark elf roared, his eyes flashing purple for a moment as he lost control of his rage.

This caused Kor to break out in deep laughter, and it echoed hauntingly throughout the chamber. After about half of a minute, the Hora-quan Overmind finally managed to get some control over his self.

"Ahhh, Jak, ignorance must truly be bliss." Kor said with a fiendish smile upon his face. "A pawn is all you will ever be, all you were _meant_ to be!"

"What?" the dark elf said, wary of a trick.

"Oh come now, Alexander," the eons old monster rumbled, calling him by his christened name, "did you never wonder, in all your years, what possessed the Precursors to start mating with creatures that weren't even their own species?" Kor went silent for a few seconds, awaiting a response. When none was forthcoming, he continued with his little rant. "Did you never wonder what madness drove them, the Ancients, to start having offspring with life forms so far beneath them? I mean, for the love of the Fallen Ones, they were perfecting long range space travel when your kind was barely grasping the concept of bows and arrows. When they were mastering the use of warp gates," he gestured up to the Rift Gate, which Jak only now noticed, in the corner of his lair, "your kind was finally beginning to understand that copper resulted in better tools and weapons than stone. So what could have possessed them to do such a thing?"

"I don't know." Jak responded coldly, his eyes never leaving Kor.

"Well, then I feel that you should die knowing the truth." The Hora-quan Overmind said, his voice dripping with arrogance. "It was nothing along the lines of 'love' or 'compassion' that made them do it. They knew they were losing their war with us, and they sought victory by _any _means. Soon enough, they realized why they were losing: they didn't have enough numbers." Kor paused again, grinning maliciously. "They found the solution with you elves. The Channelers, long hailed for their 'noble' bloodlines, were created by the Ancients to be a sub-race of hybrid super-soldiers for the sole purpose of turning the tide!" he spat.

One could have dropped a pin in the chamber, and heard it hit the ground, it was that quiet. Daxter and Jak exchanged looks of disbelief, while Kage growled suspiciously in the mind's eye of the Ascended Channeler.

"You lie!" the dark elf hissed.

"I'm afraid I do not, Jak." Kor replied with a shake of his head. "They sought their most powerful warriors, and had them breed with elven females that they…'acquired.' Your kind, believe it or not, had several traits that made them optimal for the project." he said, before bringing up his hands and counting off on his fingers. "You are a rather strong and hardy people, and you are more intelligent than a good number of other races out on this world. You also adapt quickly to almost any given environment or situation, another plus. And then, of course, there is one last advantage your kind has, especially when the 'gift' you possess is passed on through genetics: you elves breed like kangarats."

'**_As if he has any room to talk!' _**Kage growled, his taloned fingers flexing back and forth, eager to tear into the one whom had for so long been a bane to his host.

"And there you have it, Jak." Kor replied smugly, baring his fangs a little more. "The truth of your nature revealed, your fate spelled out for you. You are a weapon, an instrument, a tool to be used and then cast aside once your purpose is through, nothing more!" he snarled, before calming himself, and continuing with a slightly pensive tone "Yet, despite everything, you still hail them practically as if they were gods, when they were the ones to drag you into this conflict in the first place!"

Jak went to make a reply, but a rattling sound suddenly came from within his backpack. His eyes still upon Kor, he reached back, fumbled for a second, and then drew forth the Precursor Stone.

It was black once again and it vibrated slightly.

The Hora-quan Overmind seemed to take interest in this, and leaned forward slightly.

"Well I'll be…" he murmured, before straightening up. "Can you actually _hear_ me in that little stasis chrysalis, Tarath?"

The Stone rattled again, this time, in what almost appeared to be an angry manner.

"I'll take that as a yes." Kor said with a smug grin. "How very interesting, I suppose your slightly…unusual…nature must be responsible for that."

"This thing is a Precursor?" Jak said, unable to comprehend what was happening.

"More or less." the Metal Head Leader responded with a nod of his head. "I'm not actually certain if he can be called a Precursor anymore, though, given what he's become. Mar was wise and cunning, building the Shield Wall to defend him. But that is beside the point. Precursor or not, I am going to have your younger self open that stasis chrysalis, and then I am going to finish what I started all those years ago! Then, my task in this ancient chess game will be finished."

"You're forgetting one thing, megalomaniac!" Daxter shouted in a voice that was surprisingly loud and defiant. "We've got the Precursor Stone!"

"Not for long!" the Hora-quan Overmind snarled, before throwing out a large ray of Yellow Eco at the duo.

It hit, and there was a deafening concussion, as the raised area they were standing on collapsed. The Precursor Stone, undamaged by the blast, fell into the pit and rolled for a moment, before coming to a stop about fifteen feet in front of where Kor was hanging.

"Hmmm," Kor mused, frowning while he rubbed his chin, "considering whose genes he's carrying, I would have at least expected him to put up a fight." He then traced his claws down to the two scars upon his chest, and looked out to the Stone. "But clearly, Tarath, genetics aren't everything."

The Stone rattled once again, and Kor could have sworn for a moment that he saw a pair of red flashes inside the now blackish purple Stone. He was going to say something, but he was suddenly made aware of the fact that someone off to his left was clearing their throat.

Slowly, he looked over, and saw Jak, and Daxter as well. Both were unharmed, and the dark elf had Kitetsu out.

"I, am not a pawn!" He repeated, snarling once again. "I may have been born to be a weapon, but I fight because I chose to, not because my ancestors were bred to be some sort of super army." He narrowed his slitted eyes and for a brief instant, Kor felt a bit of fear makes its way through his heart. "I have no 'fate' but that which I make for myself!"

'**_A noble speech, my friend.'_** his inner demon said, a smile upon his visage.

'_Thanks, Kage,' _Jak responded as he created a phantom blade in his left hand, _'you ready for this?'_

'**_I will not fail you!' _**the oni replied, thumping a fist across his chest.

'_I know you won't.' _the Ascended Channeler said with an inward grin.

They were yanked back to reality by an earthshaking rumble as Kor released himself from the cocoon like structure he'd been hanging in, and spread out his many legs, before bringing his talons up into what could only have been some kind of combat stance.

"Very well then, Jak." the enormous monster said. "We shall battle and see what becomes of this eons old conflict."

Daxter, standing next to Jak, made haste to get out of the way, realizing that this was one battle where he'd just be a complication for his friend. Still, his large eyes flew back and forth, eying on one side, Kor, arguably the most powerful individual creature to have ever lived, and on the other, Jak, the Channeler that prophecy spoke of. A battle of colossal proportions was about to happen…but who would be left standing when all was said and done?

* * *

&

* * *

Aaaaannnnndddd cut!

Okay, I know I am probably receiving enough death glares to destroy a small army at the moment, probably from the Channelers' origins as much as the place that I chose to stop at. However, I felt that the battle between Jak, Kage, and Kor deserved a chapter to itself. The good news is that I'm about a quarter of the way through it, and its shaping up to be pretty big, but I am hoping to make it at least _**ten thousand** _words long, so if you have any ideas that you would like to see, please let me know, I beg of you (gets down on knees and begins pleading)

On another note, for those of you probably wondering what in the world was going on between Torn and Jynx, what they were saying was a Mandalorian (dear heavens, I read waaaayyyyy too much Star Wars) battle phrase, the translation of which is this.

Kandosii sa ka'rta, Vode an-- One indomitable heart, Brothers all.

Haveanta a'den mhi, Vode an.-- We, the wrath of Haven, Brothers all.

Bal kote, darasuum kote.-- And glory, eternal glory.

Jorso'ran kando a tome-- We shall bear its weight together.

kyr'am Nau tracyn kad, gra'tua cuun hett su dralshy'a! Vode an-- Forged like the saber in the fires of death, our vengeance burns brighter still! Brothers all.

Now, I have asked around, and I have been assured that this does not count as a songfic, however, should that not be the case, please let me know **immediately** so that I can change it before the administrators come swooping down on me, as I would rather not lose eight months worth of work.

That said, please let me know what you thought of this chapter and if you have any ideas, comments, constructive criticisms, let me know as well. Or feel free to even flame me.

Thanks, and have a great day.


	33. Endgame

(Flash of light, followed by a being covered in crimson robes materializing)

Greetings to you all on this fine day, and I do hope you're enjoying yourselves. Been working long and hard on this chapter, but despite my best efforts, it still looks like its going to come up about 400 words short of my lofty goal, and for that I apologize, and hope that a ninety six hundred odd word and twenty page long fight seen is enough to please you. As for me, well, I've picked up a bit of a stomach virus, and its irritating the crap out of me, despite the inhuman quantities of pepto that I've been downing. (cherry flavored my arse!)

To those of you who were kind enough to review my works.

**MewmiC- **Yep, it's Tarath. Our little Precursor friend has played a very large role in the history of everything that's happened here, and next to Jak, Daxter, and Keira, he will be one of the biggest characters in the sequel, as there will be several 'flashback' chapters during which you'll see his past and learn where he's coming from and all that, as I wish to make him one of the most human and fleshed out OCs that I've ever created. AS for the battle, I hope it pleases you. (bows).

**animedragongirl- **Couldn't hide it from you, could I. Thanks for the fanart, you really gave her a good look, and for that I couldn't be more grateful. I hope you enjoy the science club, and if you plan on drawing anything more, please let me know. Thanks for the advice about reactions as well, I've got something up my sleeve…I just hope it works. (nervous anime style chuckling)

**FaiyaaNoRyu**- Thanks for the input, I'm flattered that you liked it. As for the battle, I hope you find it to be enjoyable, and there are a few comical moments in it. And yes, our Channeler and his soul mate are going to tie the not in the time between the two stories, so you already know the ending to the sequel is going to be different than the one in the game. (glares in the direction of N.D. headquarters) I'm also hoping to be able to fill in some of the game's plot holes and make a few AU concepts appear within, among which will be yet another more painful demise for Errol, and a heap of Veger torture.

**MariaShadow- **Sorry about the cliffe, but I felt that the battle deserved a chapter to itself. Hopefully the wait will have been worth it, and there is one part in here that is vaguely like the Shelob battle in LOTR…Fool of a Took! (sorry, I've had way too much caffeine.)

**Farr2rich- **Sorry to have offended you. (bows meekly) and sorry that you had to wait a week to get to read this. You're right about the remaining chapters, though. As for updating, I hope to see the next bit of your story soon, and did you get the list that I e-mailed you back?

**Philoworm- **Got the e-mail that you sent, and thanks man. Zidon won't be an ascended Channeler, but his skills will be above average, especially when he's walking around in Precursor crafted armor. (They may have been breeding the Channelers to die for them, but the Ancients were going to send them into battle well equipped to do the job.) One thing I want to be sure on though is his weapons. The Kodachis are like knife sized katanas, right? I googled the word that that was about the only thing I got besides some weird anime character. That asked, I hope you like what I've been able to come up with.

**SevethSpanishAngel12- **Here it is, and don't worry about me having rushed it, as its been proofread by animedragongirl, and not much gets past her. As for Tarath, let's just say there's a lot more to him than meets the eye, but you'll have to wait for the last chapter to find out more on him. Still, I hope you enjoy the fight, and that I've managed to pull off the 'epic' that I was going for.

**Evil Manic- **Never particularly cared for the Tough Puppy myself, and I was planning on an environment and vehicles that are sorta reminiscent of the 'Mad Max' movies, as I noticed tons of influence from the game. (plus, it never explained how the Wastelander buggies got their juice). As for the battle, I think I made it good, but please let me know what you think of it.

**GoodMorningBeautiful2005-** Glad you liked the Channelers' origins, as I don't think that was ever explained, and I thought it would be grimily funny if it turned out that they were just supposed to be bioweapons. (I sorta hinted towards that in the Mar's Tomb chapter, when Sentinel refers to the group as being 'results of an experiment') Also glad that you liked the chant, and that this chapter has been worth the week long wait.

**SRHumphrey727- **Here it is, the grande-finale of the story, the epic battle between Jak, Kage, and Kor, with Haven's fate being on the line. Also, got your e-mail this time…a very sobering story, and a good lesson, thank you. (bows). Hope you like this chapter.

**Air of Mystery- **Hmmm, can't seem to remember that story…I think I'd better go reread the bible and figure out where that one was. No religious influence in that, really, I just thought it would be interesting if they were supposed to be super weapons (as let's face it, imagine an army of twenty thousand Channelers rushing in at you…scary no?) Hope you like this chapter, it might be my best one yet…unfortunately, though, considering the quality of some of them, that's not saying much.

**DarkStarPhoenix- **Well, if you didn't hate me for that cliffhanger…never mind, I'd be giving stuff away. Thank you for offering the mission idea, and Jak will have his work cut out for him back in Haven in the sequel, as the death bots will have two kinds of command and control battle mechs (one light, one heavy, with weapons ranging from laser submachine guns to energy blades, flamethrowers, missile launchers, plasma cannons, and grenade launchers so large, they have to unfold from the thing's back and be fired from a kneeling position). As for your battle idea, I had planned on doing something similar to that, and I have little doubt that you'll be able to spot it. Hope you like the chapter. (bows)

**YamiTenshin14- **So, it appears as though I'm not the only one who hated that that was about the only thing Kor did in the fight. Rest assured, I have completely purged that from the battle, and the Metal Head Leader is going to put up one heck of a struggle. AS for the L.E.U., the person will start out with only defensive abilities, but once she 'ascends' like Jak did, she'll get some offensive abilities, don't worry.

**Lunatic Pandora1- **Yeah, but aren't all heroes allowed one 'evil laugh' right before they storm in to kick butt? As for the blade idea, I'm not sure if I can work it in, but I'll try, so thanks for it, and I hope you like the chapter.

**Jetrex12-** No, Daxter will not comment on the battle, though there is something rather funny that he does about halfway through, you'll know it when you see it. As for the ideas, animedragongirl submitted a drawing to me on a concept, and I think I'll be going with that. Thanks though, especially for the 'shield' idea, cause that's going to get used, believe me. (bows)

**anon- **There is a scene like that in the fight, but thanks for the idea anyway, I'm grateful to receive them, and I hope you enjoy what my demented little mind has managed to turn out.

**Light-Eco-Sage- **I hope you succeed in getting an account set up, and I pray that you manage to update your stories soon. (I really like the wedding one that you're doing, as Ashelin going 'bridesmaid crazy' on Torn was freaking hilarious, as was Jak having to put up with the paperartzi in Sage's Legacy.) I'm also glad that you liked the Channeler's origins, as I really wasn't certain how well that was going to go over. That said, I hope you enjoy the showdown between our heroes and Metalus, Leaderous, Egotisticus.

**Daxter the otsel- **Glad that you like the tale, and may this chapter also be pleasing to you. How's your own story coming, by the way, as I've been wondering when you're going to post it?

To everyone who read, but did not review, I hope that you have found the mediocrity of this tale bearable, and that I have not somehow scarred you all.

Lawyers: Don't, own, anything, get it through your skulls!

I would also like to once again extend my sincerest thanks to animedragongirl for proofreading this, and for the fanart that she's done (Check it out at deviantart, there's a link to her page at her profile)

As was the case in Chapter Twenty Three, I want you all to know that without your advice and support, I would never have been able to get this far in my story. Thus, once again, I dedicate this chapter to you, the readers, may you please find it worthy of your attention.

* * *

&

* * *

Endgame

The two stared at each other, both the Ascended Channeler and the Hora-quan Overmind awaiting that subtle signal, that unconscious 'bell,' that would trigger the fight of the century.

As luck would have it, a bolt of lighting struck near by, and as the thunder swept over the Nest, both combatants launched themselves at each other, screaming battle cries at the top of their lungs.

Once again, Kor demonstrated that he was far speedier than a creature of his size should be, and lashed out with both of his forearms in an attempt to turn Jak into a fillet ala elf. However, the Ascended Channeler was not going to be taken down by such a simple move, and he vaulted up and performed a back flip, before coming down with both blades out. He then swung them, taping into his vampiric strength. But even then, Kor was swift, and brought an armored forearm up to block the blows.

Kitetsu and its phantom copy were deflected by the Hora-quan Overmind's armored carapace, with little more than scratches to show for all the power that had been behind them. With a wicked smile, Kor then brought his scorpionic tail into the equation, lashing out with it with enough force that it went about two feet into the ground as Jak just did manage to get out of the way.

'**_That was too close.' _**Kage murmured, 'eyeing' the damage done by the attack.

'_No kidding.' _ the dark elf responded mentally, as he leapt to the aside to avoid another such blow.

The Metal Head Leader brought his tail down a third time, and once again Jak was forced to jump aside to avoid being impaled. However, he didn't dodge quite as far this time, and as the stinger imbedded itself in the ground once again, he lashed out with both blades, only to find out that Kor's tail was armored just as heavily as his forearms were. Apparently, the Fallen Ones had thought of the potential vulnerability of that body region, and sought to prevent it from becoming prematurely detached from the rest of him.

Once again, the monstrosity's talons came in at him, trying to rip him open. This time, Jak opted to attempt a different tactic. He vaulted out of the way, and threw both katanas at his foe, aiming for the glowing gold eyes that kept boring into him. Kor ducked the attack with relative ease, just as the dark elf had planned.

From his hands he summoned the ever familiar dark lightning, willing it to go forth and strike his destined foe. The Channeled Dark Eco struck the massive Hora-quan, but once again, it did little more than generally piss Kor off.

The Metal Head Leader snarled in wounded pride, before throwing out a Channeled attack of his own, Yellow Eco crackling over his taloned hands before he unleashed it upon Jak with a roar. The dark elf kicked it into overdrive, moving like a blur to get out of the blast range of the attack, which took out a good chunk of Kor's living room.

He reached up and grabbed his blades as they arced back towards him, and for a few seconds, he and Kor just stared at each other, each of their minds trying to think of a way in which they might triumph over the other.

Jak was finally beginning to understand one thing though, Kor was far tougher than he had anticipated, and he was at last starting to realize how this guy had made a career out of finishing off one of the most powerful races in the universe.

Kor, on the other hand, was mildly impressed by the fight that Jak was putting up, and it seemed as though for the first time in centuries, he was actually going to be in a battle long enough for his adrenaline to get pumping. Still, he had every reason to believe that he was going to win this conflict. After all, he had never lost before, and he saw no reason why that should suddenly change.

And so, with a ferocious smile that did justice to his true nature, Kor charged at the dark elf, and lashed out with his right hands. Jak dodged to the left, as he had anticipated, and the Ascended Channeler found the other set of talons there waiting for him. The Heir of Mar saw the attack coming, and managed to avoid most of it. However, one talon did strike him shredding his armor's vest and drawing a line of dark blood across his chest. He managed to dodge the rest of the attacks, willing the searing pain in his chest to go away until Kor ceased his assault, and looked down upon him with a smug expression.

"First blood to me, it would seem." he rumbled with a wicked chuckle.

"Last blood counts for more!" Jak screamed, before hurling himself at his foe once again.

He threw the shadow blade in his left hand, and conjured up a dark bomb at the same time, before chucking it straight at Kor's chest. The Hora-quan Overmind swatted the phantom katana away with his left hand and brought his right arm up to block the Channeled attack, and he succeeded in stopping them, though a slight grimace and growl attested to the fact that they caused something a wee bit more than a mild discomfort.

Jak had anticipated his foe blocking the attack, and once more the whole purpose of the assault was to serve as a distraction. Too late, Kor realized he'd taken the bait, and felt a pain run down his chest as he realized that he would now have an 'X' shaped mark on his chest to share with his other scars as Kitetsu and a new conjured shadow blade bit into him, provided of course, he survived the battle. However, he wasn't about to let Jak press home the sudden advantage that he had, and he leaped away, coming down halfway across the chamber with an earth shattering thud. He gave a brief glance down to his chest, while Jak whirled his two swords around, letting him know that he wasn't going to win this fight without taking a few hits of his own.

Kor realized that despite everything, he had still underestimated what the Ascended Channeler was capable of dealing out. He'd fought many battles in the eons that he had lived, but it had been ages since someone had managed to score a hit on him, let alone one that would leave him with a permanent reminder of the fight.

And so it was with considerably more caution that the Metal Head Leader reengaged his opponent in mortal combat. He also felt it a wise decision to begin to tap into his abilities a little bit more.

Jak was forced to teleport away from the barrage of Yellow Eco attack that came his way a moment later, and he realized that Kor apparently cared little for the fact that he was ripping his home apart. As the gigantic Hora-quan raced at him a moment later, he pondered his options, wondering what he could do to get the odds in his favor, and keep them there.

And it was then that he realized that Kor did have one weakness that he might take advantage of: his defenses were impressive, but he did have blind spots and areas where they didn't cover.

And so, it was with those weaknesses in mind that Jak charged at his foe once again. Kor lashed out with his talons once again, but this time Jak executed a diving role underneath them. So great was his momentum, in fact, the he went right up underneath the massive Metal Head, and he promptly jabbed both Kitetsu and its shadowy twin up to their hilts into Kor's gut. He was them forced to dive out of the way as the Hora-quan Overmind tried to run him through with one of his legs, and nearly succeeded in doing so.

Needless to say, being stabbed in his underbelly did not help Kor's temper in the least bit, and he whirled around with enough speed to kick up a small wind in the chamber, getting the dark elf back in his sights so that he could try and crush him again. He spotted Jak quickly enough and he brought his fists down once more, rattling the whole chamber with the impacts as he tried to turn Jak into an elven smear on the floor. After putting many a dent in the ground with those failed strikes, he reminded Jak of his tail, twisting it to where the stinger was curved downward, and then bringing it down at an angle. Jak ducked and rolled forward, barely managing to keep his head upon his shoulders as he heard the unnerving 'whoosh' that his foe's attack made as it passed overhead, missing him by mere inches.

Kor struck out once more, slamming his palm down in an attempt to reduce Ascended Channeler to a smear on the ground. However, the dark elf had had just about enough of being on the defensive, and realized that he needed to start attacking again if he was going to come out on top in this clash.

And so, as his foe once again tried to turn him into a two dimensional object, he just barely dodged out of the way, and then, tapping into his inhuman speed, he rushed up Kor's arm, making it all the way to his shoulder and digging both of his weapons into the unarmored joint.

The Hora-quan Overmind roared in pain, and brought his other hand to the wound, nearly squashing the dark elf in the process. Fortunately, our hero was able to get clear before Kor turned him into a two dimensional object, hopping off and once again diving underneath the gigantic Metal Head, before once again given Kor a dosage of his unique brand of acupuncture.

Kitetsu and its phantom twin were never able to inflict much damage, even when the devastating Juyo style was used upon the Metal Head Leader. But even pinpricks can become lethal if enough of them are inflicted. Such was Jak's philosophy as he continued to dash about, striking everywhere he could while Kor attempted to keep up with him.

He leaped to the side as the massive stinger on the end of his foe's tail came sailing at him in an attempt to run him through. He avoided most of the blow, but didn't get completely clear, as it slashed through his armored trench coat just below the area where the ferrosteel pauldrons ended, drawing blood and a hiss of pain from the dark elf. Still, Jak did not allow himself to focus upon the wound, and instead, performed a vampiric leap, getting himself up on Kor's back. He quickly dashed forward to where the Hora-quan Overmind's abdomen melded into his chest, and began to hack away at the unarmored portion of the joint.

Kor, quickly realizing that he was now in a rather compromising position, began to thrash about in an attempt to dislodge the Ascended Channeler. This had the result of Jak taking the Dark Eco blade in his left hand and jamming it in up to the hilt as a sort of anchor during the wild ride that occurred thereafter. All the while, Kitetsu was hacking away, drawing blood and eliciting roars of frustration and pain from the Metal Head Leader.

If one listened closely enough, one might be able to pick out the sound of Daxter cheering and whooping as Kor thrashed around like an animal at some sort of bizarre rodeo.

However, just as the Metal Head Leader reached the point where he was possibly considering using his tail on the dark elf, never mind the consequences of what would happen if he were to miss, he finally managed to dislodge him.

Jak kept a level head as he flew through the air, dispelling the shadow blade in his left hand, and spreading out said hand and both feet as he hit the floor to absorb the impact as he skidded for several feet before he was able to completely stop himself.

Once again, there was a lull in the fighting as both combatants tried to formulate new strategies and tactics.

Jak grumbled a bit inwardly, wishing that his memories of this particular part of his life were not quite so fuzzy, as the knowledge would have come in handy. Still, he supposed that he'd just have to make due with what he had.

He refocused he attention upon the now, though, as Kor came charging in yet again. As before, the Hora-quan Overmind struck out with his taloned hands at first, but as Jak dodged, his foe revealed that he was wising up on that strategy, and he lashed out with his tail. So great was the speed of the limb, that Jak knew he wouldn't be able to find the time necessary to build up the required focus to teleport out of the way, and so he simply twisted to the side, avoiding the razor sharp stinger blade on the end, but still getting a bone crunching smack from the scorpion like appendage.

He smacked against the edge of the chamber, _hard._ And while the breath might have been driven from his lungs, and a good number of ribs damaged, he still maintained enough focus to notice the Metal Head Leader coming at him to finish the job. However, a well placed pair of dark bombs, followed by a proverbial thunderstorm of Dark Eco succeeded in driving Kor off and keeping him at bay until the dark elf could sufficiently recover from the monster's attacks.

Daxter, still watching the battle, let out a sigh of relief as his best friend proved that he was not yet down for the count. And deep down, he wished there was some way that he could help out, some way that he could do something, anything, to help tip the odds in Jak's favor. Alas, even had he been an elf, rather than cursed with this miserable and pathetic excuse for a mortal shell, he doubted there would have been much he could have done.

And so, the Ottsel was forced to make do with having front row seats for the greatest clash in recent history.

Which was getting back underway as Jak summoned a phantom blade and threw himself towards his foe once again. By this time, several things had been established in this clash. First, while both combatants were gifted with incredible speed, Jak held the edge in reflexes and maneuverability, which therefore allowed for him to score more hits. The second, was that Kor was the undisputed stronger of the two, so when he did connect with Jak, the dark elf sure as Hades felt it. The Metal Head Leader also had greater endurance than his elven foe, and had significantly more combat experience.

These were advantages that both warriors attempted to make use of to the best of their abilities, With Jak staying in close and slipping around Kor's defenses, while the Metal Head Leader kept pivoting about in an attempt to keep the Ascended Channeler in his sight range, and trying to get that blow in that would mark the end of the battle.

Several minutes, and a few pain filled roars later, though, Kor quickly realized that his current strategy was not working against Jak, and knew that he was going to have to find a new one.

And so he spread his wings, and took to the air, buzzing around the chamber for a few seconds before unleashing his Channeling abilities upon his foe. Jak leaped up out of the way of the first blast, answering the attack with a dark bomb. With a surprising amount of grace, Kor barrel-rolled out of the way of the attack, and it impacted harmlessly upon one of the chamber's walls, though there was a decent dent left where it had struck.

Not pausing for an instant, Jak sheathed Kitetsu and charged up his ever familiar Dark Eco lightning, letting it crackle over his fists for a few seconds before he willed it to streak towards his foe. The outspread web of electricity hit the Metal Head Leader, and coursed over him for a few seconds, inflicting some damage, and making him that much angrier. However, before Jak could begin another attack, Kor retaliated with some moves of his own.

The Hora-quan Overmind snarled, and charged up an attack in both of his fists, before unleashing the technique upon Jak. This time, the dark elf didn't move, and there was a bright flash, followed by a thundering explosion as the attack struck, stealing everyone's vision for a short moment.

The light cleared, and Jak was nowhere to be seen. For a moment, Kor let a malicious smile come to his face, until he heard something come shrieking in at him. He turned to face the noise, and received a dark bomb right in his chest. The impact and resulting detonation rocked the Metal Head Leader backwards, and left him to wonder just how in the name of his makers Jak had gotten out of the way of the blast. He then recalled that the dark elf had escaped a similar situation just before the battle, and came to the conclusion that his foe had a new trick up his sleeve, and that he had best be wary of it.

The Ascended Channeler went on the offensive again, lashing out with energy ball and dark lightning, throwing everything he had at his foe, knowing full well what the price of failure would be. Kor weaved back and forth, returning the favor whenever he could, determined to finish off this bastard wretch, and the room was soon filled with craters and the like as testament to their epic confrontation.

As the battle raged, the two combatants eventually moved over to one side of the massive chamber, and while energies continued to crackle back and forth between the two of them, Daxter at last saw a manner in which he could help. Still lying there upon the ground, was the Precursor Stone. Not truly knowing how much use it would be, but realizing that leaving it out there in the open was probably not the best course of action, he dashed out to retrieve it.

At the same time, Jak let out a cry of fury, and unleashed some Dark Eco lightning at Kor. Once again, with a deceptive amount of agility, the Metal Head Leader dove out of the way. The blast continued onward, and as luck would have it, struck the strange prison orb that was holding Alex captive. It crackled over the surface of the orb for about two seconds, before the lightning shattered it, dropping the boy to the ground.

The young prince hit hard, and awoke with a pain filled groan. Opening his eyes, the first thing that he saw was the fierce battle being waged between Kor and his future self. Naturally, survival instincts kicked in and the first thing he did was try to find some place to seek shelter before Murphy's Law kicked in and an errant blast found him as a target. The first thing he saw was Daxter, who was practically bent double trying to carry the Precursor Stone out of the battle zone. Upon reaching a suitable bit of shelter, and Ottsel promptly let go of the stasis chrysalis, and dove behind it.

He was somewhat surprised when a green haired six year old joined him a few seconds later, and the irony of the situation was not lost upon him.

Heading back over to where the dark elf and Metal Head Leader were busy trying to blast each other into the great beyond, things were much the same. Kor would lash out with an attack, and then Jak would evade and retaliate with his own Channeling abilities.

More and more as the battle progressed, the Hora-quan Overmind lauded himself for his decision to wipe out the Channelers once he began to realize what the Precursors were up to, as he was quickly realizing just how potent an army made up of tens of thousands of them could have been.

However, as another dark bomb hit home upon him, he was also beginning to realize that he was going to need to alter his strategy yet again. Jak was good, and had been watching the ways in which he would dodge rather carefully. The end result was that the Ascended Channeler's aim was improving exponentially, and Kor was finding himself catching attacks rather than dodging them with increasing frequency.

The Hora-quan Overmind was far from stupid, and he knew why he was having problems. Despite the fact that in this situation, Jak could not take advantage of his Juyo blade skills, the environment was still rather small, and suited the elf far better than he. The problem: Kor needed more room to maneuver. The solution: take the battle to the air.

He charged up a massive amount of Yellow Eco, and then sent the assault straight to the roof of the chamber, figuring the destruction of that portion of the Nest a small price to pay for final victory. Their living quarters were practically wrecked beyond repair at any rate.

There was a deafening roar as the ray of energy impacted upon the ceiling, and ripped the top right off of the nest. There were a few small bits of debris that fell downward, but most of it had been vaporized by the explosion.

Once the smoke was clear, so to speak, Jak looked up, and saw Kor hovering up in the air, waiting for him.

'_Looks like it's your turn, Kage.' _the dark elf remarked as he looked up into the roiling storm clouds.

'**_Do not worry, I shall make him suffer for his crimes.'_** the oni growled as Jak let him take control.

The ever familiar orb of black energy surrounded the Ascended Channeler, and the cry purifying agony that accompanied it changed into a roar a moment later. Then it was over, and Kage stood upon the floor of the chamber, his draconic wings spread wide and the altered Kitetsu held within his grasp, looking every bit the Angel of Death that he was.

With a battle cry that screamed for Kor's lifeblood, the demon took off, the powerful strokes of his wings propelling him towards his destined foe.

* * *

Keira instinctively shielded her eyes along with everyone else on the balloon as the top of the Metal Head Nest exploded, turning night to day for a few seconds. 

The speed of the seemingly primitive Lurker balloon was rather amazing, and they were already within a mile or so of their designated target.

Unfortunately, if the gasps coming from Brutter and his comrades were to be any indication, it appeared as though Jak hadn't quite been able to finish the job of yet.

As the flash cleared and they looked out once more, she reached down and brought up a pair of macro binoculars, trying to get a better idea of what exactly was going on. Sure enough, Kor floated above the shattered nest, his wings fluttering so fast as to nearly be invisible, and she instinctively felt for the morph-gun that was slung across her back, before common sense caught up with her and she realized just how useless that weapon would be against something like him.

After all, if he had been responsible for the destruction of the Ancients, she highly doubted any weapon of elven design could pose much of a threat to him.

Fortunately, she spotted a certain winged demon a few seconds later, and watched as the two foes hovered in front of each other for a few seconds, each apparently waiting for the other to make the first move.

Lightning crackled in the sky once again, and the battle chose that moment to resume in earnest.

* * *

Daxter squinted up through the new skylight in the Metal Head Nest, desperately trying to see what was going on up there. However, he quickly found his efforts to be an exercise in futility. At least, until he looked around and spotted Keira's backpack lying amidst some rubble. 

Frantically, he shot up and rushed over to it, Alex close on his heels. The furry rodent reached the pack, and quickly unzipped it before diving inside, rummaging around through it and throwing things out.

"Spare power packs…" he muttered, and Alexander was forced to step back as they came flying out. "Lock hacking device…voodoo doll of Errol…pins, needles, other miscellaneous pointy objects…" he rambled on, before pausing for a second, and then sending something out that was a strange mixture of green and blue, and had probably been some sort of food at one point in time. "Ewwwwww!" he exclaimed. "How long has that been in here?"

At last he found the object of his search, and triumphantly hoisted his own pair of macro-binoculars into the air. He hopped out of the backpack a second later, and immediately looked up at the battle. He then frowned for a moment, before flipping the binoculars around, and staring out of the proper end this time, was able to see what was going on a thousand feet above his head.

* * *

They rushed towards each other, each one baying for the other's blood. Kage summoned a phantom blade as the distance closed, and time seemed almost to slow as they drew ever closer, ever nearer to the third phase of this history shaping conflict. 

Then they were in striking distance.

Kor, his arms cocked back, brought his taloned fists in with all the strength he had at his disposal, kicking up a small wind with the force behind them. Kage, however, expertly dodged the blows with a mid flight twist followed by a dive that put him right underneath the Hora-quan Overmind. He struck out with both of his katanas, and was rewarded with a pain filled shriek from his opponent as he slipped them in between the armored sections of the carapace.

The demon then dodged to the right, barrel rolling out of the way as the enormous Metal Head tried to run him through with his tail. Fortunately, the only thing that Kor wound up hitting was the afterimages that Kage always seemed to leave in his wake. Snarling in frustration, the Metal Head Leader turned around, trying to get the oni back into his sight. Too bad for him that all he managed to do was present Kage with another chance to strike at him.

A thundering roar split the air as the oni got behind Kor, and thrust both of his weapons up to their hilts into his back, the armored carapace finally giving way this time, and letting Kor's dark blood flow down his back. The Metal Head Leader then performed another acrobatic maneuver that was seemingly impossible for an organism of his size: a front flip with a full three hundred and sixty degree twist. This dislodged Kage before he could inflict any further harm upon him. It also sent the scorpionic tail shrieking in towards him, and the Dark Eco demon threw himself backwards as best he could in an attempt to ward the blow. However, it did manage to graze him just slightly; not going more than an inch deep, which, thankfully, for a creature of Kage's nature was little more than a scratch.

Knowing that the wound would heal quickly; Kage sped back towards Kor as the Hora-quan Overmind whipped around to face him. However, as he closed the distance between them, Kor decided that now was a good time to show off yet another trick that he had hidden up his sleeve. He thrust his hands outwards, and focused his powers. This time, though, rather than the twin beams of energy coming forth, Kage instead found himself having to deal with a barrage of foot ball sized energy pellets coming towards him at a rather high rate of speed.

Frantically, the oni dodged to the left, and Kor turned with him, trying to lead him as he unleashed dozens of Yellow Eco bursts a second at him. One or two did hit, and wound up leaving some rather nasty looking burn marks as testimony to their capabilities. Nonetheless, the oni bit back a growl as he felt his infused blood get to work healing him, and retaliated by whipping Kitetsu and its phantom brother back and forth a few times, sending waves of Dark Eco streaking towards Kor. They connected on several places, causing the Hora-quan Overmind to snarl in a slight amount of pain, but he did not lose his focus upon the battle, and was soon coming back at the oni, bringing them both back into melee range, where the Metal Head Leader once more took the prize for strength, while Kage took speed.

However, while speedy the Dark Eco demon might have been, he did not always get off scott free, as a couple of times Kor did succeed in landing a blow, which usually sent the demon into a tailspin of sorts, though he always managed to pull himself out of them before Kor could capitalize upon the sudden advantage.

The two separated again after some minutes of exchanging blows, and another lull in the fighting took place, with both combatants simply moving about in a circle, each one formulating their next move.

Kor figured it was about time that he played one of the aces that he had up his sleeve. And so, he focused inward for a moment or two, and within seconds, felt the response. Kage was somewhat confused by the wicked grin that appeared over the Hora-quan Overmind's visage.

However, the oni quickly put two and two together once he heard a strange buzzing sound emanating from below him, and realized that there were a good number of Wasps, which had apparently been hiding amongst the canyons and whatnot in the event of such an emergency, were coming to join the fray. A frown manifested itself upon his muzzle, but if Kor wanted to play that way, then so be it, the Metal Head Leader would simply have to live with the consequences of his actions.

The demon flapped his wings to where he was propelled backwards it high speed, as he wanted to have a decent distance between himself and the Hora-quan behemoth that was determined to destroy him and his host. Once he had reached a satisfactory distance, the oni released his grip upon Kitetsu and dispelled the phantom blade in his other hand. However, the Blade of Mar did not plummet towards the ground, but merely stayed where it was, hovering by the side of its master.

Kage felt inward, and summoned up his powers like he had never before. He felt the electricity surge as it covered him, snaking its way across his outstretched limbs, caressing his skin and hair. Its contained power grew, ever stronger and ever faster, until it could be contained no longer, and the oni set the power free with a cry.

Kor's smug grin changed to a look of utter disbelief as he saw nearly a hundred of his children speed towards his foe, only to die screaming as a lightning storm of mythical proportions suddenly erupted around Kage, effectively turning him into the largest bug zapper in recorded elven history. The dark bolts flew through the Metal Heads like a gigantic chain lightning spell, ravaging their internal organs, destroying their nervous systems, and generally putting them through a few moments of unspeakable agony before they either plummeted towards the ground as oversized charcoal briquettes, or simply popped like grapes.

Kage opened his eyes as the attack ended, and once again they glowed hell-forge red. Kor felt them pierce his soul, and he was unable to hold back a pang of fear as he realized he had definitely underestimated what the Dark Eco demon was capable of unleashing.

And he'd thought that Tarath had been stubborn when it had come time for him to die.

Fear however, was quick to turn to rage as he remembered all of the children that had died at the hands of this freak. And so it was with a roar that drowned out even the noise of the storm above that Kor charged back in at him, Yellow Eco crackling in his talons. Several energy attacks were unleashed between both sides before the gap was closed, though neither was able to do anything more than superficial damage to the other.

As they reentered melee range, Kage once again summoned his phantom blade, ready to unleash both it and its original upon his adversary. They met with a thunderous din, as Kage brought both katanas in from the sides, a move that the Metal Head Leader blocked with a single forearm and then attempted to retaliate against, lashing out with the other limb.

The oni, however, simply folded in his wings, and let gravity take hold of him. This not only successfully put him out of range of the attack, but also let him score a minor hit upon the arm as it passed over him. Kor snarled and brought his tail back into the equation once more, intent upon running the Dark Eco demon through.

A pump of his wings propelled the oni out of harms way, and put him a position to strike at the Hora-quan Overmind from the side, which was exactly what he did about half a second later, drawing a bloody line across his foe's jaw. However, a flurry of attacks drove him away before he could truly capitalize upon the move, and both combatants were basically sent back to square one, watching the other, seeking some sort of flaw that could be exploited for their gain.

About three seconds passed before they were at each other's throats yet again. Kage blasted forward, willing himself to move as fast as he possibly could, angling himself straight for where Kor's heart was most likely located. However, it was not destined to be the deathblow of the fight, as the Metal Head Leader's own razor fast movements forced him to take a detour, or suffer from some rather painful consequences. Instead, the Dark Eco demon opted for a different attack, barrel rolling to his left and dropping his altitude just a bit, he dove underneath the defensive assault that Kor threw at him.

The oni brought both of its blades together in a cross slash type maneuver, and the scream that followed no doubt caused some elven dead littering the area to sleep a little less peacefully.

But then, one could hardly blame Kor for his outburst. Matter of fact, he handled it pretty well for a guy who had just had one of his legs sliced off. Indeed, rather than breaking down in tears, he simply went mad with rage.

With a battle roar that could be heard for miles, the Hora-quan Overmind whirled around to face Kage, who quickly realized just how much he had angered his foe. Realizing that attempting to engage Kor while he was in this berserker like mode would not be the wisest of ideas, the oni opted for evasive action. He folded in his wings and dove towards the ground, Yellow Eco splitting the air all around him as he weaved back and forth, trying to throw off his adversary's aim as best he could.

He leveled off scant feet above one of the large plateaus that dominated the landscape, Kor hot on his tail and raining death down from above. His wings pumping in a furious bid to gain more speed, Kage spiraled over to his right, diving down into a canyon. The Metal Head Leader followed him closely, doing everything in his power to simply _kill _this damned freak of nature.

Through the ravines they flew, with the Dark Eco demon leading his nemesis upon a proverbial wild goose chase, diving and turning, maneuvering himself through obstacles that Kor could not hope to fit through. Unfortunately, said monstrosity simply opted to blow them apart to continue with the chase.

A couple of minutes later, deciding that this little chase scene was going nowhere fast, Kage decided to change his tactics. He spun around and threw a dark spear attack in the Metal Head Leader's face. Kor pulled up at the last possible moment, taking the attack in his chest. The blast, which had previously proven itself capable of blasting through more than half a dozen Metal Heads, did manage to penetrate the carapace, but pretty much ran out of steam after that. The Hora-quan Overmind, now enraged even more than he had been previously, charged up an attack of his own, before letting it fly. The oni flew up out of the canyon, and twisted to one side as a pair of Yellow Eco rays blew by him, nearly singing his hair.

Kor came up out of the ravines as well, and twisted about trying to locate his opponent. He did so, and blinded by his rage, charged towards the oni. What he failed to realize, though, was that Kage was hovering right in front of a rocky pillar.

Just as the Hora-quan Overmind reached striking distance, though, Kage zipped out of the way. Too late, Kor realized his error, and the result was a rather comical 'bug hitting the windshield' type moment as he impacted with enough force to leave a Metal Head Leader shaped crater in the rock.

However, as the demon charged back in, hoping to end the battle there and then, Kor retained enough sense of the world around him to retaliate. His tail came sailing in, and Kage, not expecting this, caught the blow square in his chest. The stinger laid his flesh open to the bone, and the force of it sent him sailing away.

He hit the ground, hard, and lost his grip upon Kitetsu while he began to bounce and roll over the rocky terrain, the stones slowly flaying him alive, ripping his skin and flesh away to the bone in some places.

After several seconds, he came to a stop, and he lay still.

* * *

Keira stared down through her binoculars, and felt her heart catch in her throat at the sight of him lying there on the ground, apparently unmoving. 

"Come on," she whispered frantically, "get up, get up!"

Whether through some quirk of nature or twist of fate, he heard her, or Kage simply proved to be more stubborn than the pain that was coming from his many wounds, she never knew. However, regardless of which reason was the cause, the oni did slowly get back up to his feet as his wounds healed, causing her to breathe a sigh of relief.

As the innumerable lacerations closed and muscle, skin, and sinew knit themselves back together, the Dark Eco demon extended his right hand. Some distance off, Kitetsu jumped into the air and shot towards him, heeding the call of its wielder.

Once his taloned fingers had clasped 'round the blade once more, he summoned a shadow sword, and spreading his wings, roared with such strength and fury that Keira could hear him ever from where she stood in the Lurker balloon.

He was letting Kor know that he might have been beaten and battered, but that he was far from finished.

The oni then jumped into the air, and shot like a bolt of lightning towards his opponent, who had also recovered, and was balancing upon his seven remaining legs remarkably well.

They were at each other's throats again within seconds.

Their battle was as terrible as ever as it raged on, carrying both up into the sky once more after a time. However, before they had been at it for too much longer, a strange whining sound split the air.

* * *

"Holy mother of Mar…" Jynx breathed over the comm. as the approaching Hellcat's finally saw what they were up against. 

"My thoughts precisely," Torn concurred.

Tess had told them about Kor's true nature, but having such a being described to you, then seeing him and realizing that you were about to go into battle against him, were two _very_ different things.

"Cut the chatter and form up on our wings." Ashelin said in her best "I'm your superior and you're going to like it" voice. "We're going in full throttle, and if you can't see the target, I am going to personally beat the tar out of you for forgetting your glasses."

There were a few laughs at this. The humor wasn't good, but even bad humor reminded them all that they weren't alone in this battle.

Their engines wide open, the gunships closed the distance between the Metal Head Leader and themselves rapidly. Kor and Kage, meanwhile, were for the most part oblivious to all of this, as each was more worried about preventing the other from landing the blow that would signal the end of the mortal conflict.

They drew closer, and H.U.D.'s began to beep and warble, indicating lock-ons with their massive target.

"Open up!" Ashelin commanded.

It was an order that everyone present was all too eager to carry out.

The air was suddenly filled with Eco being spat from the quad blasters and side mounted guns of the elven cruisers. Both airborne combatants whirled to face the gunships, and Kage took one look and moved out of the way. However, Kor's rage was reaching the point where the destruction of the Dark Eco demon alone would not sate it, and so he simply hovered where he was.

The elven pilots watched in disbelief, as their cannon blasts merely bounced off the Hora-quan Overmind's armored carapace. It was something that should have been impossible, not even Torresques, the most heavily armored of all the Metal Head breeds, could put up with abuse like that, let alone not even have so much as a scratch to show for it.

However, they quickly reverted back to reality when Kor roared at them, and charged forward. He wanted these arrogant and puny elves to know that they were doomed, that for all their courage and audacity, that they had no hope against one such as him. The Hellcats moved off, breaking formation as they streaked by him. Not about to let them go by unscathed, the Metal Head Leader opened his maw, and he revealed a new trick when he spat a blast of Dark Eco at one of the gunships.

It hit the cruiser, and ate through its armor in an instant, exploding when it hit the engines, and lighting up the night sky. Another one had its engine connector severed by his tail, and it went down, trailing smoke and fire until it crashed upon the rocky ground below, joining countless other wrecks that already littered the graveyard. A third one met with a similar, if more dramatic fate, as Kor pounced upon it, gripping it with his arms and legs, and literally ripping it apart at the seams, roaring again as it did so.

Kage dove in, thinking Kor distracted, and tried to end the fight again. However, he was once more swatted away, nearly being disemboweled by the stinger on the end of his foe's tail.

As luck would have it, his involuntary flight backwards would be halted courtesy of the Hellcat cruiser that Ashelin, Torn, and Tess were in. The Revenant and the lieutenant merely exchanged a glance with each other as the oni slammed into the canopy of their gunship.

With a groan, Kage opened his eyes, and lifting his head up from the spider web of cracks that he had just created, shook his head until he could see a single image again.

"Nice catch." he growled to the elves inside, before rolling off and spreading his wings.

The oni then extended his hand, and summoned his blade again. However, while his stomach wound did heal, it did not do so as speedily as it normally did. Kage was running out of energy, and fast. Kor, though, while very much battered, was still going strong, and currently chasing after a few more Hellcats, determined to destroy them.

Realizing that he would have to rely almost completely upon his blade skills to finish the battle, the Dark Eco demon rushed back towards the Hora-quan Overmind, a battle cry coming from his fanged jaws as he tried to turn his foe's attention away from the elven cruisers. It worked, and Kor turned back around to come after him, unleashing Channeled Yellow Eco attacks until he got close enough, and striking with fang and talon upon entering melee range.

He brought Kitetsu and its phantom twin in from below, crossing them and letting and X shaped blast of Dark Eco come blasting out of them, which the massive Metal Head blocked with his forearms. As it had been in the case of the dark spears he had used, the attack did do damage to Kor's armored carapace, but little after that.

The Hora-quan Overmind came back with more attacks of his own, throwing out another pair of Channeled attacks before rushing forward into a more personal kind of combat. He reached back to his sides and lashed out with both of his hands at the same time, his talons fully outstretched, and a quick upwards back flip was all that saved Kage from being torn in half. However, Kor made the mistake of overextending himself in his attack, and it took him a second longer to recover than usual.

That one second would be the first of two mistakes that would seal his fate.

Seeing a godsend opportunity in front of him, the oni quickly reversed his direction, and flew in at his foe, both of his dark katanas cocked back. With a cry, he swung.

There was a deafening silence for a moment, followed swiftly by a roar of agony.

Such a reaction was to be expected now that Kor had just been rendered half blind.

* * *

"Holy drek!" Jynx exclaimed, his eyes bulging out from behind his helmet. "Did anyone else see that?" 

"Yeah." Ashelin said, shaking her head in awe at what had just occurred. "Remind me to have him recommended for the Legion of Honor award if we all live through this, but as for now, someone get in there and blast him where it hurts!"

"On it." came a reply over the comm. as one of the Hellcat gunships set itself up for an attack run upon the Metal Head Leader.

* * *

Kor lashed out blindly, swatting Kage away, a move that cracked several of the Dark Eco demon's ribs. However, despite the agony, Kage was able to get back to a ready combat stance relatively quickly. 

Less than could be said of his adversary, now nearly mad with pain. What certainly did not help Kor's current disposition was when that other Hellcat that came in with its guns blazing, or the dark waves that came off of Kitetsu immediately thereafter. While little damage was done to the Hora-quan Overmind in either instance, the irritation was enough to practically shatter his hold upon rational thought for the moment.

It was then that he made the second critical mistake…he became so lost to his fury that he spat a blast of Dark Eco at Kage.

The oni made nary a move to avoid it, realizing what would happen if a Channeled attack of his own element were to hit him. While a normal Channeler would have some resistance to the attack, a being such as he and his host, so closely attuned to the shadows, would actually absorb the attack, just the thing that he needed to recharge his failing energy reserves.

Kor reached that conclusion at about the same time, and was barely able to hold back the urge to slap himself in the forehead and to let fly the largest 'D'oh!' in the history of the world.

The blast impacted, and the next thing that Kage felt was the power flowing through him. A smile came over his muzzle as he realized this might just be what he needed to finish the job.

'**_That felt good.' _**he said to his alter ego as he cracked his neck.

'_Yeah, Kor, thanks for the recharge.' _Jak said with a smirk, though the Metal Head Leader could not hear him.

Upon realizing the potential gravity of his error, said monstrosity decided he'd best get over there and squash the oni into a pulp before he could take advantage of his restored abilities, some of which Kor had little desire to be the target of again.

And as he headed towards his foe, he found himself forced to doge not only a lightning storm of Dark Eco, but also one of Kage's 'impulse' attacks, though two of the four spheres still managed to nail him.

* * *

"Come on, Cherry, kick his ass!" 

Keira spared a brief glance at Sig, who was no doubt wishing that he too could fly so he could get down there and take his own crack at the Hora-quan Overmind. Brutter and his comrades were in awe as they watched the battle between the two warriors, and the aqua-haired elf honestly couldn't blame them. There was just something about their bird's eye view of what was going on that stirred up some primitive excitement within her, something she couldn't quite put her finger on, but she suddenly felt as if she should have been out there with Jak. She just had this feeling that somehow, she and he should have been challenging Kor together, rather than her being stuck up here in the spectator section.

Granted, it was a rather close spectator section, as the two battling demons had come within about two hundred feet of them at one point, each struggling to bring the other down. As of right now, their fighting had carried them back over the nearly shattered nest.

The Metal Head Leader struck out, and succeeded in backhanding his adversary, going so far as to overreach himself to nail his opponent. Kage retaliated with a trio of dark spear attacks before the Metal Head Leader could recover from the overly aggressive move. All hit, but again, the damage done was minimal, as the energy bolts failed to do little more than make a spider web of fine cracks in the Hora-quan Overmind's chest carapace.

'_By the Ancients,' _Jak exclaimed, _'what the hell does it take to kill this guy?'_

'**_I'm not sure,' _**his alter ego responded, **_'but if things continue as they are, recharged or not, we're going to have problems.'_**

'_Well, we do have one last ace up our sleeve.' _the dark elf mused.

'**_Are you sure you wish to take that kind of gamble?' _**the oni inquired. **_'If the attack fails the two of us will be helpless, and even if it does kill him…_**

'_There's too much riding on this for us to be concerned about ourselves, Kage.' _Jak told him, resignation in his voice. _'Do it.'_

'**_As you wish.'_** the oni said with a slight nod of his head.

* * *

Back up in the balloon, Samos nodded grimly as he saw what point the battle was reaching. He grabbed a comm. unit off of his belt, and managed to get a hold of Ashelin. 

"Samos?" she said, somewhat surprised that he was contacting her here and now. "What is it?"

"Ashelin, I need you and the others to make one more attack run on Kor." The Green Eco Sage told her, his voice deadly serious.

"What for?" Torn asked. "Our cannons don't even scratch him!"

"Kage needs him distracted for just a few seconds," was the answer he got, "now stop arguing and do it!"

Reluctantly, the eight remaining gunships proceeded to do as they were told, lining up for a gun run on the Metal Head Leader.

Kor heard them coming, and turned around to face them, snarling in rage as they opened up on him, every gun they had firing upon him. It was just the distraction that Kage needed, as what he was about to attempt would require a few seconds to charge up. And so, flying up to where he wouldn't have to risk an errant shot cutting him down, he proceeded to perform the technique.

The Dark Eco demon felt deep within himself, calling forth his power, all of it that he could. Lightning crackled and flashed between his talons, as it formed into a purplish black sphere, which despite all the energy going into it, remained about the size of a baseball.

Down below, another Hellcat gunship exploded as Kor raked it with his talons, and Kage knew that he had to do this quickly. Willing his power to come forth faster, he finally finished charging up.

Abruptly, the Hellcats broke away from the fight, leaving the Hora-quan Overmind to stare about as best he could with only two eyes, trying to figure out where his slippery little foe had gotten to.

He looked up and beheld the Dark Eco demon at about the same point in time that Kage grabbed Kitetsu, which was hovering by his side, and bringing it up over his head, stared down at Kor, righteous fury burning in his crimson eyes.

"For Sandover!" he snarled, before bringing the dark katana down and striking the energy ball.

The Channeled attack shot towards the Metal Head Leader like a blazing comet, giving Kor absolutely zero time to react.

It collided with him about half a second later, and the result was astounding, to say the least.

A massive orb of shadows exploded outwards, a darkness so pure and absolute that it seared they eyes of those who looked upon it, forcing them to shield their sight and look away. It quickly enveloped the Metal Head Leader, and even the roar the attack generated could not drown out the scream of agony that erupted from within.

The orb expanded to its full size, which was about a hundred feet in every direction, and stayed that way for about six seconds before it finally dissipated.

When it did, the first thing Kage saw was Kor about to eat dirt.

Back down on the ground, Daxter's eyes bulged from behind the macro-binoculars, and he quickly tossed them aside, grabbing Alexander's hand, and rushing away in a frantic attempt to not get turned into an Ottsel pancake.

They had just cleared the area when Kor set the world record for belly-flopping. For many moments, they coughed and hacked, as the dust around them settled. What they saw surprised them, as despite everything, all the missing limbs and open wounds where the last attack had eaten completely through his armor, Kor still lived. Slowly, as if any movement pained him, the Hora-quan Overmind looked up at his nemesis, the one prophecy stated would destroy him.

Kage stared down at him, his hellfire eyes burning with a power and fury that the Metal Head Leader could see even from more than eight hundred feet below. One single thought made its way through his mind, an option that he had never before thought of: escape!

He looked about frantically, and saw the Precursean warp gate hovering in the upper recesses of the chamber. Knowing it was his only change, Kor spread his battered wings, and took flight.

Unfortunately for him, and quite comically in Daxter's not so humble opinion, his lack of left eye vision was apparently already causing a loss of depth-perception, and his aim was a little low. Instead of sailing neatly through the Rift, to escape to a place where he would be able to recover, he hit the rim. The raw power of the machina device surged through him, and he realized in a single, awful moment of clarity, that he was dead. The power grew too great for him to hold, and it exploded, consuming his body, and leaving nothing but his scarred head as a reminder of what had once been the most powerful being on the planet.

Up above, Kage suddenly began to falter in his flight, as if he was unable to hold himself up anymore.

'**_Jak!' _**the oni exclaimed in warning.

'_I know, buddy,' _the dark elf said, resigned to what was going to happen, _'thanks for everything._

'**_It has been an honor to serve.' _**the demon responded humbly.

The last thing that went through both of their minds as Kage ran out of Dark Eco, and thus was no longer able to remain manifested, was Keira's voice, screaming their name as oblivion enveloped them, and Kor's verbal stab as to how they were meant to be used and then cast aside echoing through their minds.

Keira watched from the balloon, helpless, as first Kitetsu fell from the oni's grasp, before his body shifted back to that of an elf's, and gravity took its tyrannical hold over them.

* * *

&

* * *

(runs around, dodging spears, arrows, bullets, RPGs, and the like, all the while muttering a time stop spell under breath.) 

Okay, (panting, followed by a brief glance upwards as I realize I am staring at the nose cone of a intercontinental ballistic missile. Gulps loudly, and then gentlly redirects the warhead)

Alright, I realize you are all about to rip me to shreds and feed my remains to the beasts of the world, but let me please tell you this: **HE, DOES, NOT, DIE**! Okay? I do not kill canon characters, it is only my OCs that meet with extraordinarily bizarre and painful demises, though I might make an exception in the cases of Damas and Veger.

Once again, I stress that there will be near divine intervention on Jak's behalf, and that he will be plucked from the jaws of Death, I cannot stress that enough, as it would be a rather boring sequel without the main character in it.

That said, please let me know what you thought about this chapter, as I really want to know if I managed to get the climax of this story down correctly. For once, I am actually going to beg you to let me know how I did, and as usual, I do accept flames, but constructive criticisms and ideas are what I value most.

Thank you all once again for everything, and please have a great day.


	34. Deus Ex Machina

(Materializes, a scowl upon his face)

Friday once again, my friends, and that means an update for you. I apologize in advance for the fact that I had a severe problem with writer's block on this one, so bad in fact, that I've actually had to split the chapter up into two different ones, so there will be one more chapter after this one.

In this one, Jak is saved, Alex gets sent back in time, and we learn a little bit more about Tarath, and the identity of the other Channeler is revealed, assuming that you didn't figure it out many chapters ago.

Anyway, to those of you who were so kind and left me reviews.

**Philoworm- **Happy birthday to you, and congratulations on becoming a year older. Glad you liked that the battle, and I apologize on the wait for the chapter. About Zidon's weapons, would a tanto be about right in the size area? Also, thank you once again for everything that you've given to me as far as attacks are concerned.

**YamiTenshi14- **Yeah, I thought it would be rather funny if Kage got swarmed and wiped them out with a single attack, so I threw that in just for the sake of getting some laughs. As far as cliffhangers are concerned, I'm sorry about that one, but rest assured that I'm not going for a hat trick here.

**MariaShadow- **Sorry about the cliffe, but I hope that this chapter proves to be worth the wait. I'm also glad that you liked the battle, as I wasn't sure if I'd managed to pull it off.

**Evil Manic- **Glad that you liked the fight scene, and thank you for the weapon ideas. As far as a name for the L.E.U. I don't think the person will have one, as Kage isn't so much a result of the Dark Eco, but rather something that Jak created, a bestial personality that was strong enough to survive Errol's means of entertainment. However, at least initially, the person will use guns, and for that I have you to thank. Hope you like this chapter too.

**Farr2rich- **Don't worry, I've decided not to kill Veger, I'm just going to have several people (Keira, Damas, Tarath, and Kage) give him a good thrashing (insert evil laughter). Thanks for the Eco information, and did you get that e-mail that I sent you? Also, don't worry about the romance, there will be plenty of that in this chapter and the short epilogue. Good luck in your own writings and I hope to see another update soon.

**Air of Mystery- **You flatter me. (blushes) I'm really glad that you liked the battle, I was so worried that people wouldn't like it. Also, you mentioned that you would be doing your own Jak 2 novelization. When will I get the chance to read that, as it will be nice to have another D.J. that is not some mindless devil. (Please make it JxK when you do it) That said, I hope that you like this chapter.

**animedragongirl- **Yeah, that was rather evil of me to do to Keira, and I'm grateful that she sparred my miserable existence. I can't thank you enough for helping me out in this chapter, and I hope to have the epilogue to you by Sunday, as its going to be a tad bit short, considering that its only about half of a chapter. I also hope to read your own story again soon, so please update quickly.

**SeventhSpanishAngel12- **Don't worry, I wouldn't dream of killing Jak, that would get me nuked for sure. (nervous chuckle) At any rate, glad that you liked the chapter and here is the update for you, may you hopefully find it to your liking.

**just another writer- **I'm overjoyed that you liked the battle, but as far as Keira's powers, no they won't manifest themselves until an accident in the sequel that will involve her, some battle droids, and an underground container of Light Eco. Hope you like this chapter, and thank you so much for the positive input.

**Nightwalker- **Glad that you enjoyed the grand finale battle, and I hope that I may continue to please. (bows)

**Lunatic Pandora1- **"A pity that your moment of triumph is being spoiled over a little thing like grave robbery." (God, Van Hellsing was so funny, I loved Dracula's dry wit and wry humor ) As far as catching, well, Daxter just about catches something, but I can't say anymore. Hope you like it though, and thanks for everything once again.

**DarkStarPhoenix- **Glad that you enjoyed the fight scene, and how Kor bought the farm. As for Damas, I think I'm going to let him live, as it wasn't so much that he died that bothered me, but the fact that it never really had an impact on gameplay and the story. I mean, Jak's father dies in his arm in one scene, and not five minutes later, he's perfectly fine, that bugged the crap out me, as he would not act that way. The only gifts that he'll receive from the Precursors, though, is Mar's armor (He receives it all in one hunk, and I could send you a picture of how its basically going to look and what it can do if you'd like) and Sentinel will teach him a Precursian martial arts style. Also, don't worry, there will be plenty of Veger torture in the sequel (rubs hands together in glee)

**Xeno-Freak- **Happy to hear from you again, and I hope that you enjoyed your trip. Glad you liked the fight between Jak and Kor, and there will be some more Z.O.E. influence in the way in which some of the Precursor's fight. Also, I hope to see your own story up soon and I really really want to read it!

**Exardas- **Glad you liked the chapter, my friend, and please update your own story soon, I beg of you. As for Jak's exile…well, the only real reason that I could figure for his being cast out was the fact that Veger and co. needed a scapegoat to put everyone's problems on, and that will be a big thing (though the military and about half the civilians will be more than a little perturbed when they find out about the exile deal). Hope you enjoy this entry as well.

**Silver Magiccraft- **I'm happy that I have been able to please. (bows) To answer your question, yes, Keira will receive powers of her own, and she and Jak will do quite a bit of bad guy thrashing, as will several other overlooked characters (heck, even Daxter's going to scrap it out with the Fallen Precursors) Glad you've enjoyed what my feeble talent has been able to churn out, and I hope that I continue to make this story enjoyable.

**FuaiyaaNoRyu**- Glad that you think that I got the battle scene down, as I was really nervous. I also hope that this chapter has been worth the wait for you as well, and I thank you for your input.

**gamehead64- **(looks up at Death Star, hovering above home) Would now be a good time to start begging for mercy? (falls to floor, hands clenched above head) Glad that you liked the fight scene, and rest assured, there is no cliffhanger in this chapter. That said, I hope you like it.

**Light-Eco-Sage-** I'm glad that you liked the chapter, and I hope this little tidbit pleases you as well (there's a little bit of Jak/Keira fluff in it). Also, I sent you a message, but I'm not sure if it got through, so please let me know if I got the address right (you have to space it out, I think, otherwise it gets deleted by the server, why, I know not) Also, if you get the time, check out Will They Survive? by Farr2rich, its really good.

To those who read, but did not review, I hope that I have managed to make things thus far decent and to your liking, and that I have not driven anyone mad in some way form, or fashion.

Lawyers- I do not own, and I grow weary of saying it, so realize that by now.

That said, here is chapter thirty four

* * *

&

* * *

Deus Ex Machina

She screamed out his name as she saw him fall, nearly lunging off the end of the balloon. She felt Sig grab her, but she broke free of his grip, before jumping off of the ship.

The air shrieked in her ears as she plummeted towards the ground, angling herself towards the nest. As she drew closer to both the Nest and the rocky terrain below, she stuck out her right arm, and took careful aim, before firing her grappling hook into the side of the remains of the Nest. It sank in, and she activated the reel inside her gauntlet, bracing herself for impact. Once she'd hit, she quickly yanked the hook out, and took aim at another area.

In this manner she worked her way to the ground, before frantically rushing into the nest, denial consuming her soul, as she knew what she would find inside.

* * *

Daxter and Alex approached Kor's head with the utmost caution, as it looked as fierce in death as it had in life, and in the back of their minds, they wondered if it might somehow manage to reanimate itself. Still when no movement was forthcoming, both let out sighs of relief.

"Man," Daxter muttered with a shake of his head, "I'm going to have to get some serious help hauling this back to town."

Alex, meanwhile, was intrigued by something else. The Precursor stone was rattling once again, in an almost frantic manner, and the youth drew closer, reaching out his hand to touch the glowing gem.

Daxter, however, suddenly heard a strange hissing sound, and looked up to see Kitetsu failing towards earth a rather high velocity, and it was about to give him a whole new meaning to the term 'splitting headache.' With a yelp, he threw himself backwards, and the blade sunk into the ground, going down about halfway up to the hilt before finally stopping. With an indignant glare he looked back up.

"Jak!" He exclaimed. "I swear if you…ever…"

He trailed off as he saw the dark elf following the descent of his weapon, and panic began to overtake him.

At the same moment that hysteria was about to possess him, Alex noticed a minute glyph like symbol upon the front of the Stone, and touched his hand against it lightly. The stone suddenly shuddered, and a blindingly bright light suddenly overtook the area as it shattered.

Daxter looked back over his shoulder just in time to see a black blur shoot forward and streak towards where his best friend was about to hit the ground.

Clichéd as it might have been, the thing caught him mere seconds before he would have hit.

"Got you." He said quietly as he held him securely, and he would have breathed a sigh of relief…if he'd still been able to breathe.

Slowly, the strange being turned about, and Daxter felt his breath leave his lungs as he let his awe show. The dark armor, the strange 'horns' upon the helmet, and the double edged, serrated scythe blade attached the right arm, angled backwards at the moment. Before them, hovered the Praetor of legend.

As he floated back to the ground, and gently lay the dark elf down, the Precursor let his hands travel over the elf's battered form, before standing back up, and extending both hands. Before Daxter could protest, dark lightning shot from the end of its fingers, enveloping Jak.

He started to run towards this guy, to try and make him stop, not knowing that he was actually helping, when the staccato sound of gunfire beat him to the punch. The armored warrior leapt back, taking to the air as a quartet of Eco bolts hit the ground where he had been a fraction of a second earlier. Daxter and Alex look up to find Keira standing on the entrance ledge of the chamber, fury in her eyes.

"Get away from him!" she snarled.

"Be at peace, young elf." the floating Precursor said calmly, before touching back down. "I am trying to help him."

He then resumed his previous activity, stopping again after a few seconds, satisfied that the Dark Eco he had pumped back into the elf's system would be able to bring him around quickly.

It did so, and with a coughing fit, Jak awoke, staring about in surprise. Keira let out a shout of joy and jumped down into the pit, throwing aside her weapon and hitting her knees as she got close to him, before pulling him into a fierce embrace. The Ascended Channeler still looked somewhat confused, though he certainly was not in a position to complain.

"Shouldn't I be dead?" he asked nonetheless, once the aqua haired elf had relaxed her grip enough for him to breathe again.

'**_We're still alive?' _**Kage groaned with the air of someone who had just awakened from being knocked out.

"You will live to fight another day." The being said, before lifting back up into the air and pivoting around to face Alex. "And thus, a Fallen Angel shall become a Risen Demon. Out of Darkness shall salvation come, as the Shadows give birth to the Hora-quan's bane. Armed with the Sword of Kings, a scion of the Ancients shall strike down the enemy of all who live, and end the threat of an ages old menace." he said, and Jak allowed for a sardonic grin to come over his face as things suddenly began to fall into place.

"What the?" came a sudden voice from the entrance.

Everyone looked up to find Tess, Torn, Ashelin, and Jynx standing up there, looking down upon the floating Precursor. Behind them, came the Lurker Balloon with everyone else on it.

Keira helped Jak up to his feet as everyone else clambered down into the chamber. Slowly, almost reverently, the elves made their way to the black armored being.

"You're the Praetor, aren't you?" Tess abruptly asked, apparently familiar with the mythology of Haven City.

"That is my title, but not my name." The being said and the elves appeared somewhat confused. "It is my rank within our military, I believe the equivalent of what you elves refer to as a general."

"Then what is your name?" the blond haired elf asked, cocking her head slightly.

"Tarath, Tarath Shien." he answered.

"Unbelievable." Jynx breathed, in awe of the Ancient that hovered before them with his long dreadlocks flowing about in the slightly wind.

"I would also caution you to not relax your guard." Tarath told them, raising his index finger slightly. "You have won the battle, but the war is just beginning." He then pivoted about to face Jak and Daxter. "You should be wary as well, as one of your enemies is not as dead as you think."

"Could you be a liiiiiiittle more specific, Darth Vader?" Daxter asked, making a sign with his hand. "We know a lot of people that could fit into that category."

"I do not know who he is; I only sensed the darkness that surrounded him." The Reaver stated with a shake of his masked head. "I am sorry that I cannot tell you any more, but I believe you will persevere."

"In order for that to happen, though," the elder Samos spoke up, nodding towards Alex, "the circle has to be completed."

At once, things seemed to fall into place for his younger counterpart, though he kept his epiphany rather subdued.

"I understand now…" he muttered. "I have to take him back, don't I?"

He got an affirmative nod from his older self, which caused him to give out a half hearted sigh.

"Grub roots." he muttered, "Talk about being in the wrong time at the right place. I just hope that thing holds up." He said, gesturing to the Rift Rider, which Alex was now staring at with childish curiosity.

Jak calmly walked over to the youth, who gave him an affectionate smile. The dark elf knelt down close to the boy, and returned the gesture.

"You take care of yourself, you hear me?" he asked, getting a nod from the six year old. "Oh yeah, trust me on this one, stay away from _any _whump-bee nests on your ninth birthday." he remarked, shuddering a bit at the memory.

He got another nod, and suddenly, little Alex reached down, and grabbed his medallion, taking it from around his neck and handing it to the older elf.

Sig's eyes, real and mechanical, abruptly widened as he looked back and forth between Alex and Jak, the puzzle pieces finally falling into place

Keira also had a strange combination of confusion and disbelief upon her face, as she too suddenly seemed to realize what was going on. However, she also knew that meant that any chance of somehow saving Sandover from its fate was about to be lost. She shot a pleading look towards her adoptive father, silently begging for there to be another way.

"I'm sorry, my dear." the older Sage said, bitter resignation in his voice. "But this is the way that it has to be. Sometimes, for the greater good, sacrifices have to be made."

A few minutes later, with a somber silence among all the elves, the Rift Rider was activated, and the Shadow and Alex rose up into the air.

"Don't worry," the younger Sage called, "I'll take good care of him."

Then, the strange machine shot forward, and disappeared into the rift.

Keira let her head hang, and couldn't hold back a tear as she realized that her last link to her lost youth and home was forever gone. Jak simply held her close, whishing there was something he could do to ease the pain that he felt as well, something he could say that would lift the burden from her shoulders.

Still hovering in the air, Tarath stared at the aqua haired elf, trying to figure out what seemed so familiar about her. He knew what she was, but there was just something about her.

And then he remembered.

In the place of the two elves, were himself and another armored Precursor, clad in white, who was struggling not to weep as the fate of their brother was called out.

"Phoenix." he muttered, remembering his long dead friend and adoptive sibling, who apparently lived on in those that carried his legacy.

Ever so slowly, he glided down next to Samos, bending down and whispering to where only the Green Eco Sage could hear him.

"You should tell her the truth of her heritage soon, Sage." He said, his voice somber. "She has the right to know."

He then drifted over to the two elves, and laid a comforting hand upon Keira's shoulder, silently trying to let her know that things would be alright. As she looked up at him, her eyes again brought back haunting memories of the Precursor he had once considered a brother. It also brought up some rather painful memories on his part, as would what he was about to do as well.

"Great trials await you, Dark One, but I know you will overcome them." He said, his visage twisted into a mask of sorrow, thankfully hidden by his helmet. "You are strong…and you remind me very much of the matriarch of your bloodline."

Realization suddenly hit the two elves, and Jak's alien eyes bored into the Ancient, trying to pierce the black visor and gaze upon the face that was within. Abruptly, though, the being turned away, and hung his head. Unknown to them, was the single tear that made its way out of Tarath's right eye. Without further a due, he suddenly blasted up to the warp gate, and messed around with something that looked like a control panel. A couple of seconds passed, and then the shimmering Rift changed, becoming almost translucent. Before anything else could be said, the Reaver shot through it, disappearing into the unknown.

For several minutes, nothing was said as Brutter and his comrades attempted to get Kor's head loaded up onto the balloon, believing a victory of this caliber deserved a trophy of some sort. Report also started to filter over Ashelin's comm. about how the Metal Heads were starting to break down and retreat on all fronts, apparently realizing through some unknown means that their leader had just bit the dust.

"It's a shame, really," Samos suddenly mused, staring up at the portal, "that Alexander won't remember any of this."

"Not entirely true, old man." Jak said as he held Keira close, his slitted eyes having a faraway look to them as he tried to contemplate the sudden turn of events. "He'll remember in time…and I never did forget the light."

There was a sudden, audible hush that swept over the chamber. Tess stopped cuddling with Daxter, Torn, Jynx, and Ashelin stopped their conversation with each other, and Sig, well, he simply grinned and shook his head slightly. The two Revenants and the lieutenant looked over to Samos, who merely nodded.

About four seconds passed, before everyone but the Wastelander hit their knees.

"All hail…" Daxter began, before a glare from his best friend cut him off.

"Daxter," Jak said, crossing his arms, his voice holding the same tone as it did when he vowed to kill Praxis all those months ago, "if you value the feeling of the fur on your skin, you will not finish that sentence. The same applies to the first person to call me 'majesty,' 'sire,' or anything else of that nature."

"But…" Ashelin began, before Jak shook his head.

"I'm a warrior, cousin," he said, his voice calmer this time, "not a politician. I think that particular game of cut-throat, 'stab you in the back type tactics' would be best reserved for someone who knew what she was doing."

"What are you saying?" the red haired lieutenant asked, cocking her head slightly.

"Who better to run the city that someone who was reared to…Governess?" the dark inquired, raising an eyebrow.

Ashelin looked as if she was going to make some reply, before Sig's booming voice suddenly sounded up from behind.

"Look you guys," he said, resting both of his arms on the shoulders of Torn and Jynx, "we can discuss politics at a later date, but I think the situation right now merits a bit of a celebration. Hence forth, for the next twelve hours, all drinks are on me!" he said, gesturing to himself with both of his thumbs, before running over and jumping onto the balloon.

Jynx let out a whoop, and was soon on his way back to the Hellcat he had come in on. Torn and Ashelin were not far behind, either.

Jak broke away from Keira for a moment, and retrieved Kitetsu, reverently placing the blade of his forefathers back into its scabbard. He then placed his arms around the mechanic once again, and the two of them walked side by side over to the balloon, upon which Tess, Daxter, Samos, Sig, and the Lurkers waited for them.

As they lifted off, the dark elf stared into Keira's eyes, and after a moment, their lips met.

As they drew away, some moment later, Daxter's voice was suddenly heard.

"Hey, since Krew's fertilizer, you think he's going to need that bar anymore?" he inquired, rubbing his chin in the diabolical 'I've got a plan to take over the world' way.

* * *

It was darker than an abyss, this chamber, the power shut down to conserve energy, as it was not known how long the occupants would have to remain in suspended animation.

Slowly, a sound could be heard echoing through the chamber, the sound of armored boots hitting the metal floor.

His visor set to light amplification viewing, Praetor Tarath Shien located the large double doors that led to the Stasis Chamber, where the remnants of his people lay.

If one were to look at the great Precursean warrior, one would notice that several changes had happened to him. First off, he was no longer an imposing eight and a half feet tall. Now he was something closer to twenty inches in height and his legs were also slightly more humanoid in appearance, while his feet had stretched out as well. Also, he had grown a tail, and some of his dreadlocks had changed. About half of them, all in the same area, were now gun metal gray instead of black.

There was a hiss, and the door opened. Slowly, the Reaver walked inside.

He quickly located the control panel to his right, and coming over to it, started inputting commands. Slowly, the power systems that had lain dormant for so long were coming online, the systems prepping for the awakening phase.

He turned, and began to walk down a catwalk like structure, the lights of the chamber slowly coming on, and he opted to switch his vision back to normal light. As the room grew somewhat more illuminated, one could have stared out, and would have noticed that the chamber was somewhat hexagonal and very large.

It was also teeming with Precursor Stones.

Slowly, he walked out to the center of the catwalk. It opened up to a platform that was also hexagonal, with a space for a stasis chrysalis on every corner. However, only one was presently occupied.

In the center of them all was another of them, this one upon a pedestal. Tarath stepped forward, and pressed the glyph in the center, before walking over to the other gem, and repeating the process. As they began to rattle, he stepped back over to the central one, and placed one knee upon the floor, staring down at the ground as a flash illuminated the chamber, followed swiftly by a second.

There was a slight groan, and the black armored warrior looked up to see an orange colored rodent, clad in flamboyant robes, on his feet before him. The new arrival shook his bearded visage slightly, trying to get a clear bearing on his surrounding. There was another such groan, though significantly more feminine, off to the side.

After a moment or two, the Ottsel looked down, and noticed who it was that had awakened him.

"Praetor Tarath." he said, a bit of surprise in his voice, before he suddenly seemed to make sense of things. "So, it is finished then?"

"Yes, Executor," the Reaver stated in a subdued voice, "Kor has been destroyed."

"By you?" came a voice from off to the side.

Tarath looked over, and saw Ariki Crystala, her royal blue locks fluttering about as she ran over.

"No, Ariki," the black armored Precursor said with a shake of his head, "Phoenix was right with his final vision. A descendant of one of the hybrids we created slew him."

"Just one?" Executor Xadec Thas exclaimed, his eyes wide.

"It was one of the polarized mutants that Sentinel predicted could be born." Tarath said, before adding in a quiet voice. "One of my line."

"Oh?" his leader said, a slight smile upon his face. "That must bring you some comfort, to know after all this time that they did indeed manage to escape the Hora-quan's genocide."

"Phoenix's did as well." Tarath stated as he rose to his feet and coming up to his full height, about an inch higher than the other two. "She is a companion to my own descendant, and she is also a mutant."

"Two walking Gaia at the same time," Ariki muttered with a shake of her head, "I wonder what the odds of that are."

"Three." Tarath stated abruptly.

"Pardon?" the female Ancient said, not fully understanding.

"There are three of them." the Reaver clarified. "But the third one, whose lineage I know not, was ignorant to his heritage, and I might add, twisted and evil."

"Where is that one now?" Ariki asked, a sense of dread creeping into her voice.

"With them." the black armored warrior stated, his voice deadly serious.

There was only group of beings that Tarath would have referred to as such: their Fallen Brethren, the ones they had exiled after they attempted to terraform Gaia.

"How?" was all Executor Xadec could ask.

"I spent some time within a stasis chrysalis myself, Executor," the Reaver said, "and I found, much to my surprise, that I did not sleep when I was inside of one, no doubt due to my unique…anatomy." He added bitterly. "I found a way to expand my consciousness while I was inside of it, and I sensed them. My Excellency, they are returning."

"Why, though?" Ariki stated, confused.

"I believe they thought us destroyed, or at least sufficiently battered that they could return to finish what they started, and extract vengeance." Tarath said. "I think, though, that by destroying Kor, we have forced Kerrog's hand. They will begin their assault far sooner now."

"What would you recommend that we do?" the Precursor Executor asked, looking at Tarath intently.

"Marshall our forces and prepare to meet them." the Dark Praetor said, before gesturing around the chamber. "Prep our warriors, and flash train the older children."

"What?" Ariki screeched, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Your saying we should send _children _out to fight them?"

"We have precious little choice, my dear Praetor." Tarath said, his voice a strange combination of determination and bitterness. "Our warriors are less than two thousand strong, they'll be outnumbered more than three to one!" he said, balling up a fist. "Plus, I have sensed something else as well," he let his visored visage move back and forth between the two others. "In the nearly five thousand years that you have been within this chamber, the Fallen Ones have been hard at work. They've converted the Day Star from a transport ship into a fully operation omega class battle cruiser, complete with an entire phalanx of Juggernaughts for ground assault!"

"This is grave news indeed." Xadec muttered, rubbing his chin. "But I am beginning to think that your abnormally long life might have unhinged you a bit, Tarath…" he went to continue, but the Reaver in front of him suddenly stiffened, and Xadec realized his error.

Apparently, the dark warrior still had yet to get over what had been done to him.

"And who," he growled, "do I have to thank for that, my Excellency?" he spat the final word like it was a bitter poison. "Who, pray tell, do I have to thank for turning me into the abomination that I am? A freak that is neither dead nor alive!" He paused, at the point where most beings would have been panting; however, to do so would have required lungs. "Did you think, Executor, that I would want this done to me? To be turned into this monstrosity?"

The Reaver abruptly ripped his helmet from his head, baring his mutilated visage. Most of his face was normal, barring two jagged scars that ran sideways along his right jawbone, but the upper left region, from his cheekbone up past his scalp, blending into the gray dreadlocks, was a plate made of some strange metallic substance. Cybernetic implants, along with a mechanical eye that was as blood-red as his normal one, were scattered all across it.

And that had been the just about the only portion of his body that had been 'salvageable.' Xadec and Ariki both knew that underneath that armor, only a portion of his upper chest and his right arm was still organic, the rest of it was all machine.

"Do you think I enjoy being like this?" he continued with his rant. "Being trapped in the shattered remains of a mortal shell that should have failed me long ago, being unable to pass on into the next life, being a virtual slave to this existence?" he paused, looking hatefully down at his armored body. "Do you think I enjoy having this experimental generator keeping me alive? Do you believe I like it artificially synthesizing my powers simply because there isn't _enough of me left _to do it naturally?" he thundered, such fury in his voice as to actually make the other two back away from him.

The cybernetic Precursor suddenly stared at his right arm, one of the few bits of him left. He then became noticeably more subdued.

"But perhaps…" he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "considering the gravity of my failure…such a punishment is fitting."

He then spun about, placing his helmet back on, hiding his face behind that emotionless mask again, and began to walk out of the chamber.

"Where are you going?" Xadec asked, no small amount of concern in his voice.

After all, it would not be the first time that Tarath had attempted to finish what Kor had begun.

"To the quarantined lands." was the answer he got. "There's something there I need to gather."

* * *

&

* * *

Okay, just one more to go.

I hope you people enjoyed this one, and to answer a question before it is asked Xadec is the Ottsel Leader from the third game, while Tarath and Ariki will replace the other two, who I never really could get attached to, if you know what I mean.

Also, I apologize if Tarath is coming off as somewhat cliché, with him being cybernetic and all, if you have any ideas on how to improve his characterization, please let me know, as he will have a pretty big roll in the next story.

That said, if it is not too much trouble, please let me know what you thought of this chapter, and let me know of any ideas that you have, as there is a good chance that they will be used. Don't hesitate to give me constructive criticism, either, as that's the best way for me to improve.

Thanks, everyone, and have a great day!


	35. Epilogue: An Ending and a Beginning

(Materializes again, a faint smile upon his face)

Greetings to you, one and all, and I hope that you are having a good day. This is it, the final chapter of the story, and it has been fun writing and posting this tale. Let us just hope that I do not blow it in the home stretch, shall we?

To those of you who have reviewed.

**MariaShadow- **You flatter me, and I thank you for your kind words. You may expect the sequel to be even more AU than this one was, and for some of the lesser portrayed characters (Keira, Seem, and so forth) to have ever larger roles in the grand scheme of things, and Mar will also make an appearance in a few chapters. (He's a different person than Jak in my stories)

**Philoworm- **Thanks for the visual image, and for every single idea that you have ever graced this story with, I couldn't have done it without you. (Bows in humility) I hope that you enjoy this chapter, and that you enjoy the sequel just as much. Also, if I need an idea, I'll be sure to mention it, thank you.

**animedragongirl- **Got your deviant message, and that was hilarious, and sadly, true. Also, about your question regarding Daxter's powers, well, he is a Precursor, and I'm thinking he'll look good in blue, if you catch my meaning. That said, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the help that you have given me regarding this story, you transformed a grammar riddled wreck into a smooth flowing epic, and I thank you for making my story what it is today. (bows)

**Farr2rich- **Sorry to hear about your computer, and I'll try sending the e-mail again (it had to do with Keira's powers, and a picture that animedragongirl so graciously created for me.) Aside form that, I want to extend my sincerest gratitude to you for all the help that you haven given to me in this story, from the ideas about the morph guns to Errol's cyberarm (which he will lose at least one more time just to turn it into a running joke), you've helped turn this into what it is today. I hope that you find this final chapter worth the wait, and I apologize for it being short. To compensate, let it be known that I will have the first chapter to the sequel up in about two to three weeks.

**Paska- ** Thanks for the defense system, and I'm pretty certain that you'll see to it that I make good use of it. (bows) Don't worry, there will be a sequel and its going to be up before the month of October is out. That said, I thank you for all of the ideas regarding guns that you have given me. (the bullet like ones will make their appearances in the Wastelander/Marauder arsenal) Hope you like the chapter, and know that I am in your debt.

**Exardas- **Hope that I didn't mess this last chapter up, and I hope you found my input regarding your own story helpful. That said, I also want to thank you for all the ideas and help that you've given to me since you began reading this amateur work I managed to crank out. (bows)

**hybrid- **Yes, you summed it up pretty well, and the humanoid form is a 'combat form' that they go into right before its time to scrap it out with someone. (they do it by Channeling their powers into their own bodies in a manner similar to how Jak was injected with Dark Eco.) Hope you like the final installment.

**gamehead64- **(glances upward nervously) hehe, nice Death Star, nice planet destroying space station. Glad that you liked the chapter, and I hope you enjoy the future Errol torture (Veger will get what's coming to him as well, in many more painful ways than the game).

**Air of Mystery- **Cats? Oh, God, no! I'm allergic to those things! (makes ward against evil) At any rate, no real Predator influence with Tarath and company, but I took the liberty of pretty much altering Mar's armor to where it does look like a more angular and jagged version of what Scar was running around in in AVP (if you don't know what that looked like, e-mail me and I'll send it to you) Your own story sounds like it would be very interesting, and I very much look forward to it coming about one day. As for Keira, no, she will not have a light side. Kage wasn't really brought about by the Dark Eco treatments, but Errol's means of stress relief, he's a split personality that Jak's mind developed as a last ditch means of preserving its sanity. Also, you have my gratitude for the Light sided powers (bows).

**Yuuzora- **I am honor that you have decided to review this product of my demented mind. (bows in humility) As for your own writings, I'd say to go for it, and as far as quality is concerned, we've all got to start somewhere (I have three stories buried on my hard drive that will stay there until Judgment Day cometh, as they suck that badly.) And don't worry about Veger, he gets mangled in the very first chapter of the sequel, and almost every scene with him in it will have some sort of physical pain being inflicted upon him.

**Xeno-Freak- **Yep, Tarath went and pulled a Darth Vader (hence the cruel irony of Daxter referring to him as that particular Sith Lord) Glad to see that you finally put your story up, and I eagerly await the next update. I also want to extend my thanks for your support and help during the writing of Risen Demon, and I hope that you may find the sequel to be just as entertaining. (Bows in humility)

**Evil-Manic- **To answer your question, the sequel will be an entirely knew story, though I have yet to think of a title (though I'm thinking along the lines of War of the Ancients, or something like that…any ideas?) Also, my humblest thanks to you for all your weapon ideas that you have present to me, they have really made this story much better than it otherwise would have been. (bows to his knees) Hope you enjoy the last chapter, and thank you once again.

**Lunatic Pandora- **Funny that you should mention Daxter having funky Precursor powers, cause he actually does, and he will play a major role in the final chapters of the sequel (as in, he will be storming the Day Star, weapon in hand right along with everyone else) Also, my sincerest gratitude to you for all the support and positive input that you have given to me while I have been working on this story. (bows)

**Anonymous- **You flatter me (blushes). I'm glad that you think so highly of me, and I hope that you find the upcoming sequel to be just as good as this one was.

**FuaiyaaNoRyu**- Glad that you liked the chapter, and there will be Veger torture in spades (I'm also thinking about no killing off Damas, that was cruel beyond words). And yes, the Precursors are still Ottsels, the forms that the elves have been seeing up till now are their combat forms (see the bottom of the chapter for more details). Also, no, Errol will not be a freaky terminator wannabe whose method of survival was never revealed…he will be something far more dangerous. (cackles insanely) Oh yeah, Tarath is just a name I came up with off of the top of my head, as its something I use for roleplaying characters a lot.

**SRHumphrey727- **Nope, Tarath will not be like that, although he will have a few agnsty moments, as his past will be revealed via a series of flashbacks in the sequel, but I want him to be someone who is more haunted by his past than 'my life is a living hell.' Think sorta like Vincent Valentine from FF7. As for Keira, she is in a sense (it will be explained later) but Tarath's remark was to her being a Channeler descended from Phoenix.

**Light Eco Sage- **Yep, 'God of the Machines' (that's they called it in a Greek/Roman play where things got so screwed up that divine intervention was required to get things straightened out. The machines part comes in from the fact that the 'god' was always lowered via a complicated series of ropes and pulleys down to the stage) And yes, there will be a sequel up in a few weeks. I also want to especially thank you for giving me the encouragement that I needed to begin writing this story in the first place. Know that I am in your debt. (falls to the floor and begins to worship) Oh yeah, did you get that e-mail that I tried to send you? Not sure if it went through.

**thorn1484**- I am honored that you thought my first chapter was so good, and I hope that you continue to find the story entertaining, and the sequel as well.

**GoodMorningBeautiful2005- **Glad that you liked the story, and here is the final update, I hope that you enjoy it. Also, I want to wish you the best of luck in your own writings, and I hope that you do well.

To those who read, but have not reviewed, I hope that you liked this amateur work, and that it might one day inspire you to do a little writing of your own.

Lawyers: for one last time, guys, I do not own anything save that which I have created, so bugger off!

That red tape taken care of, here is the epilogue.

* * *

&

* * *

Epilogue: An Ending and a Beginning

Two days had passed since their victory and the atmosphere inside of the 'Naughty Ottsel,' as Daxter was planning on naming the saloon, was both upbeat and somber at the same time.

They were overjoyed at their victory, but they still mourned those that had fallen. As if to accentuate this fact, off in one corner, was a picture of Vin that someone had found, and a small plaque that had been created was beneath it.

_In memory of the most eccentric and half-crazed scientist that Haven City has ever seen. Vin, an elf of unrivaled genius, and a true friend and hero. He will be dearly missed._

"Here's to you, Vin," Jak said, raising a glass of water, "wherever you are."

'**_The spirits of your ancestors guide you home.' _**Kage added silently.

Those that were present at the place then downed their glasses, their expressions somber as they remembered the technician and the countless others who had given their blood for the victory they had won.

Eventually, though, the partying mood kicked back up, as there was still much to celebrate, and everyone was doing it their own way. Daxter was busy serving out drinks with Tess' assistance, telling his jokes without a care in the world. Keeping him busy in that respect was a drinking contest that Jynx and Sig were currently engaged in, while Brutter looked on in utter amazement at the amount of liquor the Wastelander and the Revenant were downing, and neither of them showing the usual adverse effects thus far.

Samos was chatting it up with Onin, and Pecker was serving as he always did, providing the translation of the various different signs that the blind seeress weaved back and forth through the air.

As for Torn and Ashelin, well, they were simply holding each other close, smiles upon their faces as they finally stopped giving a care about what anyone might have thought about their relationship with each other.

The dark elf, however, stayed back in one of the corner booths, Keira at his side as the two of them emulated a certain red haired lieutenant and Special Operations soldier.

"Hard to believe I was that little guy once." Jak suddenly mused aloud, looking over to the aqua haired elf, who had a weary smile upon her face. "Better times, eh?"

"Yeah, but he does grow up to be a rather handsome hero." She said, and she gave him a peck upon the cheek.

Suddenly, Daxter's voice could once again be heard above the commotion that everyone else was making.

"All right, grandma," he exclaimed, hopping up onto the table that Onin was seated at where she was currently imbibing from some unknown beverage, "that's enough for you, I'm cutting you off!"

The response he got was an energy bolt to the chest, which sent him flying into Pecker, who nearly spilled his own drink onto Samos as a result.

'**_One would think by now, he would have learned not to anger her.' _**A certain inner demon mused, chuckling slightly as he did so.

'_One would think.' _Jak responded mentally.

The Ottsel meanwhile, got back up slowly, glaring at Onin, not caring a whit that she couldn't see him. However, she must have somehow sensed what he was doing, as she suddenly broke out into a signing fit.

"What's she saying?" he abruptly asked the familiar to his side, a frown on his furry visage.

"Something about rubber tubing and various parts of your mother." Pecker stated, his eyes suddenly widening as few more symbols lit up the air. "And that, you don't want me to translate, trust me."

Before things could get much further though, Tess simply picked the Ottsel up and began to scratch his head, which succeeded in calming him down, and actually elicited something along the lines of a purr from the diminutive rodent.

Jak and Keira's gazes then drifted back to the center of the bar, which had been converted into a makeshift dancing floor, and Ashelin had once again yanked Torn out onto it and was currently leading him around upon it, eliciting a few cat calls from Jynx, which got the pyromaniac a death ray glare from his brother in arms.

The dark elf laughed softly, not noticing the strange gleam that had appeared in the eyes of the holder of his heart. The next thing he knew, he had just been ripped out onto said dancing floor as well.

* * *

Some time later, the two elves went outside, arm in arm with each other. In the distance, fireworks lit up the night sky, a tribute to the triumph that everyone had accomplished together. 

"Isn't it great, Jak?" Keira mused aloud. "Haven city finally has the peace it's worked for so many years."

"Mmmm…" Jak said shaking his head and smiling softly, before a frown overtook it. "But I can't help but wonder who the enemy that Tarath mentioned is…" he paused for a brief moment, before a crooked grin appeared on his face again. "Oh well, at least I'll get some peace until we meet."

'**_Aye.'_** agreed Kage. **_'I think that after all that we have been through, that we are entitled to a bit of rest.'_**

For once, though, the dark elf ignored his alter ego, as his attentions were focused on something else, namely Keira. Unfortunately, their tender moment was interrupted by another group heading outside consisting of Samos, Sig, Daxter and Pecker.

"Ahhh," the old Sage breathed, smiling, "it feels good to finally be able to breathe free air."

"Yep, nothing like the smell of burning Metal Heads to get the olfactory nerves into a real partying mood." Daxter remarked sarcastically, crossing his arms and giving the old elf his famous glare.

Sig merely cleared his throat as he looked down at the diminutive rodent.

"Alright, maybe in your case," Daxter conceded, "but then, you're insane."

"Hey!" Sig said, his voice filled with mock hurt. "I'll have you know that I used to be a pretty normal guy, thank you. I can still remember when my mom used to tuck me into bed with my poopsie bear and a glass of warm, Yakow milk."

There was a moment of stunned silence among the group, as every single person present turned to face the Wastelander, gapping at what they had just been told.

"What?" the armored elf inquired with a shrug. "Just cause I'm a big, bad Wastelander means I ain't entitled to a normal childhood?"

"No…"Keira said, searching for the right words, "its just with the image you put on…you know."

The armored enforcer simply started to chuckle, which quickly turned into a full bout of laughter, laughter that the others soon joined him in.

They stopped some time later, and Samos, wiping the tears form his eyes, smiled up at the dark elf and his adoptive daughter.

"Jak, Keira," he said, his voice strangely devoid of its usual harshness, "the future awaits, and its never looked so good."

* * *

He stood where he was, clad in his white armor, his helmet tucked under his hand. He was looking out at a telescoped view of Gaia, the place that was once his home. 

Home, it was such a foreign word now, something that they'd never had since their exile. Still, they were now returning, and soon, what was started would be finished.

He abruptly spun about, and began walking off of the bridge of the Day Star, a confident smile upon his furry visage, passing through hallways and corridors that were becoming ever more populated as more and more of his brothers and sisters were brought out of stasis. While they were still several months away from launching their primary assault, there were still things that would need to be done that would require all hands on deck. First off, they had to prepare themselves, as after millennia spent in stasis, even the best warrior would be a little rusty. Not to mention that they would have to gather up the remnants of the Hora-quan, and use them to wear down the enemy defenses. There were other things as well, too many to list in fact. But they would all be necessary for their triumph.

He arrived at his destination soon enough, and walked inside of the training arena. The sounds of combat could be heard even before he reached the battle zone, and as he did so, he eyed the contest at hand.

Errol flew above the arena, the black, raven like wings of his transformed state keeping him aloft above his two opponents, a pair of blue armored Dragoons. The Ascended Channeler was clad in black armor reminiscent of legionnaire style splint mail, and a longsword, cruelly serrated, was clutched in his right hand, while a blade that seemed to be made of Dark Eco and was shaped like a scimitar was held dagger style in his left. All in all, with the armored hood hiding his face from view, the former K.G. commander looked every bit the dark angel that he professed himself to be now.

Errol suddenly dove, coming in fast locking his weapons up with the dual bladed staves of the speedy light infantry troopers. They struggled back and forth for a few minutes, before the former K.G. commander overcame his two adversaries, disarming them with expert blows.

"His learning progress is remarkable." came a voice from off to his side.

Kerrog turned to find himself staring at Ragais, his third in command. The yellow armored Templar was apparently fresh from his own training, as he was still in his combat form, and leaning upon his spear-like force pike as he stared down into the arena.

"But if what he tells us is true, then they have at least one such individual on their side as well." the white armored Archon mused aloud, rubbing his chin. "I think I'm finally beginning to see why our estranged friends would go to such lengths to preserve themselves as to breed with things that were little better than animals. These 'Channelers' are extraordinarily powerful warriors."

"True, my Excellency, but I believe our numbers and superior firepower," the elder Fallen One said while gesturing towards the aft section of the ship, where the massive Juggernaught war machines were kept, "will give us the edge that we need to come out on top."

He remained silent, but agreed with the other warrior. Soon, victory would be at hand, and he, Kerrog Lostar would lead them to it.

* * *

Up at the top of Mar's burial chamber, there was a slight shimmer of a warp portal being activated, and a couple of seconds later, Tarath emerged in his combat form, floating down until he landed on the platform where his old friend lay. 

Slowly, with a reverence that he hadn't shown in quite some time, the Reaver reached out and picked up the dead king's helmet, remembering all the times his descendant had worn it in battle along with the rest of his armor.

This was the final piece to collect. He'd already managed to locate the rest of it, though it had been something of a chore, searching through all of that sand and dust. The armor still needed some work, as the desert environment had done some damage to it because of a lack of maintenance. Still, a few tweaks by a certain sentient computer, and it would be as good as new.

"Sentinel." He called out, knowing that the computer had been watching his every move.

A moment later, the hologram appeared, this time as a white armored Precursor, which brought no small amount of agony to the Reaver, who wondered why the A.I. always chose to manifest himself like this when in his presence. The battle form of his adoptive brother stood before him in a perfect duplication, bringing back memories that were both sweet and bitter as he almost unwillingly remembered…

* * *

He brought his training warp blade down, catching the longsword-like cryosis blade before it could connect, and then lashing out with his foot, catching Phoenix in the chest, and knocking him down. 

As the Archon went to get back up, he stopped, the scythe like weapon attached to Tarath's right arm at his throat. A grim smile made its way over his face, though his helmet hid it, and he held his arms up in mock surrender.

"Beat me again, Tarath." the white armored Ancient mused. "What I wouldn't give to have your skills."

"And what I wouldn't give to have your strategic cunning." the Reaver retaliated with a hidden smile, his voice filled with the mirth of youth.

"And what I wouldn't give to be able to use real weapons in the tournaments rather than competing with these stupid little trainers they give to us Adepts." came a younger voice off to the side.

Both of them turned and saw Kerrog standing there, in his normal form, his tiny helmet tucked under his arms. The older two quickly reverted back out of their own battle forms and walked over to the young Archon.

"Don't worry, Kerrog," Tarath said with a grin as he removed his helmet, shaking his head and letting his dreadlocks (a source of pride for him, as only mature warriors were allowed to wear their hair like that) fly about, "you'll be up to our level in a few years."

"Indeed, little brother," Phoenix stated putting his arm around his sibling and giving him a noggie, "I suspect you will be the very terror of the competitions once you're old enough."

"You really think so?" he asked, a faint note of hope in his voice.

"Yeah."

* * *

"Thinking about times past, Praetor Tarath?" Sentinel inquired, ripping him back to reality. 

"Prepare yourself for a move, Sentinel." the Reaver said, his tone world weary. "We have work to do."

The hologram nodded and faded, and a few seconds passed before a column rose out of the floor, a strange, glowing chip like device upon it.

The black armored warrior carefully grasped it in his left hand before grabbing Mar's helmet, and rising up and departing from the chamber.

* * *

Up above, Jak and Keira continued to hold each other close, hope for tomorrow filling their souls.

* * *

This is the end of this tale, and the beginning of another. However, that tale is another story…to be told…another time.

* * *

&

* * *

And that's a wrap. 

Once again, I want to extend my thanks to each and every person that has had a hand in the creation of this story, from weapon ideas to plots and the like. However, I wish to extend my special thanks to **Light Eco Sage, **for without her encouragement and advice, this story would have never been written in the first place, and to **animedragongirl ** who has so graciously taken of her own time to proofread this story and turn it into what it is.

Also for the sake of explaining things about the Precursors, military wise, here's a list of what they can do and how they operate in battle.

Precursor Military Forces

(note, armor is color coded)

Zealots- Red Eco users. Role- Heavy Infantry melee fighter (Slower moving than Dragoons, but capable of dishing out and taking enormous amounts of abuse, also capable of transferring Red Eco into an inanimate object, effectively turning it into a bomb, sorta like Gambit from the X-Men can). Can also send a pyrokinetic blast of energy about fifteen feet in front of them for obvious purposes Equipment: High durability heavy Metatron (temporary name) armor plating/ twin dual psion claws (wrist mounted twin-claw blades, two off of each arm, and about two feet in length).

Dragoons-Blue Eco users. Role- Light Infantry/Pilots (first into battle usually, use weapons/infantry support vehicles to punch holes in enemy lines, also capable of manipulating non-organic objects through telekinesis, which often works hand in hand with a Zealot's abilities). Equipment: lighter, less cumbersome version of Zealot armor/ dual bladed battle stave (have yet to come up with a name, but is about as big as they are)

Reavers-Dark Eco users. Role- Shock Troopers (use melee skills, flight ability, and offensive Dark Eco powers to overwhelm a numerically superior enemy, but lack any defensive abilities). Equipment: Medium Metatron armor/ warp blade (looks like a jagged scythe blade attached at the wrist, but it is kept folded up out of the way when not in use, about three and a half feet long)

Archons-Light Eco users. Role- All around support troopers (master of nothing, but capable of doing nearly everything, also capable of flight.) Equipment: Armor similar to Reavers/wrist mounted long blade cryosis blade. (looks like a four foot long sword on their right wrist, folded backwards when not in use)

Templars-Yellow Eco users. Role- Long Range Support Troopers (use Channeled Yellow Eco to launch devastating aerial assaults upon enemies from afar, also capable of melee fighting but that is usually a last desperate resort.) Note, they are capable of manipulating the Eco after they have launched it, (in other words, all of their attacks have homing capabilities) Equipment: light weight armor/force pike (a spear type weapon capable of stabbing or slashing.)

Arbiters- (temporary name)- Green Eco user. Role- Battlefield/Squad Medic (arguably the most important members of the Precursor military, they are responsible for keeping everyone else in fighting condition, and thus often times find themselves among the first targets of the enemy. To this degree, they can erect a very powerful defensive energy field around themselves to hold off an attack long enough for other units to bail them out.) Equipment: light weight armor and gauntlets that are used in jujitsu style attacks. (can wrap a 'telekinetic field' around their hands and feet to amplify the damage done)

Vehicles.

Stinger- close infantry support hoverbike. (used by Dragoons to initiate 'cavalry charge' type attacks, capable of slaughtering enemy infantry, but vulnerable to attack from airborne Reavers and Templars.)

Weapons: Two under slung Eco casters/two side mounted anti-matter missiles, and Dragoons have been known to use their staves like lances in these instances.

Juggernaught- Heavy assault weapons platform (basically what Errol was cruising around in at the end of the third game)

Weapons: One high power vector cannon in addition to numerous support weapons such as fast firing defensive auto-turrets, and anti-matter missile pods.

If anyone has any other things they would like to see added, or any ideas in general, I would be most grateful for them. Also, I need an idea for a title for the next story, I am thinking about calling it War of the Ancients, but if anyone has another one, let me know, as I am certain it could be better titled.

That said, I hope you all have a great day, and until next time, this is Red Mage 04, signing off.

(Turns and fades into the shadows)


End file.
